King of Dreams, Owner of None
by bunniko
Summary: A look at Sarah's life from age 10, where did Jareth come from, who was her best friend? Built around the movie. Ch 11 is back, 12&13 betaed!
1. Chapter One Boredom, Children and a Mes...

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Yup, another Laby fic. With oblique references to me and my friends. Therefore, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/ Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: The scene begins 5 years before our beloved movie, than flashes forward to just after. I will not write the movie, for obvious reasons ;  
  
Note 2: Updated, corrected, slightly edited 8-12-02.  
  
HAJIMEMASHOU!!!! (Or in English, 'Let's begin.')  
  
Chapter One -- Boredom, Children and a Messy Messy Room  
  
Jareth lounged indolently on his throne. He was long past any interest in his pack of goblins. He'd once, in a deep vale of boredom, factored out that the probability of any two brain cells in any given goblin's vacuous head meeting was a little more that one in a billion. The chance that even one of said two cells would recognize that they were of the same species was a more than one in a trillion. And the feasibility of those two brain cells communicating an idea successfully ran a bit under one in a sextillion. He'd been too depressed to calculate the odds of the idea being new, interesting or, stars forbid, remotely intelligent.  
  
Such decay was directly due to Jareth's own depressing lack of dreams. Five years ago, he'd been in the same condition. Rarely summoned, never amused, disappointed in the above ground's depressing love of reality, he'd been idly viewing a small park in a dull town in England. There he chanced upon two girls, one fair-haired and light-eyed and one chocolate-eyed and dark- haired.  
  
They were young, too young for Jareth's bedroom fantasies. Through his tastes ran strange when he was bored, he prided himself on never desiring young girls. He was sickened by those that preyed sexually on children. Sure, he stole babies, and sometimes children, but he rationalized that he was taking them away to a better place.  
  
Though he was often bored, he never used his unwanted little ones badly. He raised them himself, allowing them to choose what form they wished to take in his Fae-land. His goblins were those who in America, for example, would probably have been dumb jocks who lacked real talent. Better here chasing chickens than a lonely, unhappy life in a trailer, watching bad daytime TV and talking about his high school years as the highlight of his life. They would have been dissatisfied and unhappy with a life they couldn't manage to escape. Here, they didn't remember two minutes ago, so they were perpetually happy.  
  
In fact, most of the Fae-Land inhabitants were happy. Jareth's gloom only affected his castle, Goblin City and the Labyrinth. Nothing beyond suffered his darkness. Out there was where the others of his children lived. He would never harm them. To them, he was always kind and jovial, his cruel side kept hidden; he could never bring them such pain or fear. He had rescued them from that!  
  
He instinctively knew that these two girls were somehow important to him. He zoomed in on the blonde girl. Wide green-hazel eyes, very beautiful, were framed by long, easily tangled blond strands. Two full brown eyebrows expressively rested above them and under bangs that were clearly cut by her mom. She was tiny, almost fragile-looking, but in the eyes he could see many things: intelligence, warmth, determination, love, and, most importantly, a rampant imagination. She charmed him.  
  
But when he tired of watching her mouth spill words at the speed of light, he moved to the quieter girl. A river of dark brown hair, deep chocolate eyes, pale skin, her dream-like expression, all erased the blonde from his memory like dew shaken from a flower. She haunted him immediately. He wanted to know all about her. It wasn't a desire he had ever felt before. She was somehow like him. After being alone for so long, he wanted to be near someone who seemed like him so badly it hurt. He left in a flurry of feathers.  
  
The park was their home for a very happy year. Even the introduction of a large sheep-dog puppy dreamily named Merlin didn't faze the owl that always watched the two friends. But change is unavoidable. The blonde, whom he only knew by her nickname, was moving.  
  
The girls had recently developed a deep love for a series of teenage sleuth novels, the star of which was Trixie Beldon. So the blonde was called Trixie, being as energetic as the heroine and Sarah, the brunette, was often called by Trixie's best friend's name, Honey Wheeler.  
  
Honey and Trixie were inconsolable. Trix had come over with her parents because her father, US Air Force, had been loaned out to Britain's Royal Air Force. But now, he was needed back in the US, being sent to Texas, far away and long before email.  
  
Both being of a romantic nature, they swapped 'eternal' friendship bracelets. Both vowed to never take them off. But Jareth, sad to see his dreamers parting, gave them another gift. A gift that would ultimately bring about some of the greatest changes in all three of their lives.  
  
He finagled his ways into the dreams of an eccentric uncle of Sarah's. The uncle dreamed of two books, matching red leather covers, identical to each other. He 'remembered' that he had bought them from an odd little man in a dingy second-hand bookstore. It occurred to him that they were the perfect gift for his sad young niece and her little friend. Inspired, perhaps by Jareth, perhaps by his own unique personality, he had them wrapped in the glitteriest paper he could find and each decorated with a miniature crystal ball. The girls were delighted with the presents, though as they were presented last minute, they only had the chance of unwrapping them before desperately hugging each other goodbye. And then, Trixie was gone. 


	2. Chapter Two New Lives, New Dreams?

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: I'm back! Well, not back in the States lol. But back for another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: This chapter is set around the movie, where as the last was set 5 years in the future, then 5 years in the past! Confusing? Ganbare! (English: Try Hard/ Good Luck!)  
  
Note 2: Updated, corrected, slightly edited 8-12-02  
  
YOI, STAATO! (Or in English, 'Good, Start!')  
  
Chapter Two -- New Lives, New Dreams?  
  
Jareth thought the days of play-acting in the park were over. He refrained from returning to the park the next day, instead tormenting his goblins with his bad attitude. Unfortunately, to his way of thinking, every two minutes or so, they suddenly re-discovered their king's displeasure and set about concocting plans to cheer him up. Those plans usually were forgotten with in a minute, as they were not interesting enough to the short- attention span goblins or when a disagreement broke out, leaving a horde of yelling, cheering, mess-making goblins either watching the fight or joining in.  
  
Jareth watched it all with bored, jaded eyes. When would something new happen? He was fatigued with this life. The boring, mind-numbing, soul- stealing sameness was as torturous to him as the oubliette to his challengers. In fact, Jareth sometimes fancied that the above ground had conspired to make his realm an oubliette. Alone, forgotten, surrounded by jackanapes and filth. Why, even his servants had left when Jareth had fallen so deep into this mire of depression, self-pity and disillusionment. How desperate he was for change, for a fresh breath of air. He could only hope that one of the girls would pick up his gift. At least that would invigorate him.  
  
He managed a wan smile when he thought of the books. They would bring about the revelation of him to those two girls. But then a frown crossed his lips. But only if they read it! He plucked up a crystal to check on the two girls, even though it had only been a day. Trix slept on the plane, rather uncomfortably, and quite tear-stained. Sarah, too, was asleep, her face tear-stained as well, but curled comfortably on her bed. Annoyed, he tossed the crystal into the midst of the goblins, not bothering to watch as it transformed into a snake and sent several of the goblins shrieking about in both real and pretended fear.  
  
Still, he waited for the thrum of magic in his veins that would tell him his book had been opened. The books were enchanted, of course. Only to his intended recipients would the book show words. If Sarah's father, for example, picked up the book, it would depict interestingly meaningless pictures that would inspire the viewer to put the book down and forget about it. But if Sarah or Trixie opened the book, then the world of the Labyrinth would be revealed. If the reader had no need that the Labyrinth could fulfill, then the book would be full of its history, information and stories that would set the girls to dreaming about it. Jareth had to admit it set him forth in quite a favorable light. But, if the girls had a need the Labyrinth could fulfill, it would show them what their dreams wished to see.  
  
Jareth was wrong about the end of the play-acting. The park was still Sarah's spot. Though for a good while she sat and moped by the small pond, she was only a child. With a child's elastic nature and the encouragement of her mother, she got involved in the drama club at her school. As she and Trix exchanged a constant stream of letters, she became lost even more in her dream world. Many nights, she returned late after dinner, having spent many blissful hours in the park, playing new parts, speaking to Merlin, and writing heartfelt letters to Trixie that she would post on her way home so that no one might snoop in her private communications. Her parents even learned to leave the mail in the box, so that no one might touch her private letters. They viewed it as a charming quirk. And they had more serious matters on their hands than their daughter's quirky habits about her mail or the fact that she always returned home at 7 or 8 pm.  
  
Sarah's refuge also concealed many things from her. Her parents, in actuality, were grateful for their daughter's solitary ways. Their fights would have been impossible to hide from her if she always came home right after school. Dinnertime was the worst. After dinner, Sarah's father always went into his den and worked on whatever he had brought home from the office. Her mother would get on the phone to her agent, her fellow actors, or someone she felt `understood.` Sarah would wander in, be welcomed home with love and affection by competing parents, make herself a sandwich and then wander upstairs.  
  
Sarah and Trixie both grew up, moving through an education system that was dull and dreary, making new friends, experiencing new feelings and a sudden nervous, fluttery feeling with the approach of the dreaded high school. As they turned 13, both of them suddenly underwent the same incisive, security- shattering tragedy. Both families broke apart. Sarah's mother left for her career and the smile of her latest co-star. Trix's father left for another country and another woman. The mutual pain and shock bonded the girls tighter as they began to baby-sit frantically to earn money for long- distance calls during which they would weep, wail and complain on each other's distant shoulder.  
  
Not long after, a stepmother entered each girl's life. But for Trixie, she was just a name in another country. For Sarah, she was a real, live, daily pain in her neck. The woman would not stay out of Sarah's life! She vented to Trixie in her long letters and stolen phone calls when 'that woman' was not in the house. Even more horrible, her evil stepmother became pregnant. Sarah was repulsed and grew even more distant from her family. She lived for her solitude and her dreams and the only person she thought understood her. The worst outrage, the ultimate cause of Sarah's disdain for her father's wife, came when the woman was about 6 months pregnant. 


	3. Chapter Three Seeds of Distrust

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?Well, here's chapter three! Hope someone reviews. : Have pity on a poor injured foreigner in Japan! I got hit by a car and broke my foot on Thursday, so I'll have plenty more time to write. Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: This chapter is also set around time of the movie, though the last one only got up to establishing the existence of Sarah's stepmother.  
  
Note 2: Updated, corrected, slightly edited 8-12-02  
  
TANOSHINDE! (Or in English, 'Enjoy!')  
  
Chapter Three - Seeds of Distrust  
  
Jareth watched the tears rolling down his Sarah's face. He no longer felt the slightest oddness at thinking of her as his. Instead, a protective desire bubbled up inside him as he watched her. He twirled the crystal, bringing the problem into focus. Karen stood there, eyes full of cold fury, a mask of icy rage hardening her face. Jareth thought her extremely plain at the best of times, but now, she was even more repulsive to him. In her hand dangled three or four sheets of purple paper.  
  
Sarah was so angry she was shaking. Karen was holding out a letter from her best friend. It was clear the evil woman had read the letter. Her eyes spilled hot tears against her will. She hated this woman with so much energy she had almost none left to think with. Only the fact that she never used bad language kept her from swearing at this creature that had gained power over her by usurping her father's heart. Her eyes were red, puffy and attempting to direct hateful looks in Karen's direction.  
  
Robert Williams was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. He didn't know what to say. Ever since she had become pregnant, he had grown extremely wary of upsetting his new wife. He distinctly remembered how Sarah's mother had been when she'd been pregnant. So very moody, easily upset, and so very difficult to appease, as he remembered it. He was afraid of going through all that again. He hated confrontation, but he was torn within himself. He didn't want to hurt his daughter, but he didn't want to hurt his wife, either. What was a man supposed to do?  
  
Her step-mother began screeching. "Robert, I have tried, but this is the reward I get. Sarah writes to all of creation describing me in such villainous terms! How can you be so placid about this?"  
  
Sarah whirled to face him, "What right does she have to read letters from my friends? Why shouldn't I be allowed to talk to someone who understands how I feel? She went in my room, Dad! She violated my privacy!"  
  
Finally, Robert raised his head. "Darling, please, let's all just leave Sarah's room alone." Sarah covered a winning smirk with one hand. But Robert wasn't through. "And Sarah, hon, let's try to keep our letters on a more positive note." Sarah was stunned. Her stepmother smiled coldly. Sarah, tears suddenly dried by a new onslaught of anger, gave her a heated glare, then turned and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Robert put his head back down.  
  
When Sarah got to her room, her mind was whirling. She thought about flinging herself on her bed and sobbing her heart out, but her mind took a suspicious turn. Frantically, she pulled out the shoe box that held her letters from Trix. Sure enough, it was obvious that they had been rifled through. Over three years of communication, all private and previously untouched, now corrupted by hateful hands. Sarah couldn't help but shudder. She pulled out her diary, one of those cheap kinds with a flimsy lock on it. The only key hung round her neck, but now she thought more clearly. This lock wasn't safe. No doubt anything could pick it. Testing her theory with a hairpin, she was proved right in less than twenty seconds.  
  
Quickly, she stuffed her letters and her diary into her bag. Then, rummaging in her closet, she found an old stuffed teddy she called Lancelot. Because he was a bit raggedy, she had taken him down from the shelf of toys. Now she put him back in the place of honor. Hopefully, that would hide the floppy clown toy's absence. She tucked the clown into her bag as well. Then crawling into bed, she slept with the bag tightly held in her arms.  
  
The next morning, Sarah left the house early, skipping breakfast. She visited an older friend of hers. Explaining everything that had happened, her friend was persuaded to open a post office box for her. She wrote a long letter to Trix the next day, telling her all about her stepmother's latest invasion and her new contact address. Trix understood, and from that day on, Sarah always checked her mailbox before heading to the park. The next thing she did was use what was left of her allowance to buy a combination lock that she could attach to her diary. Then, heading to the park, she opened up the floppy clown and placed the letters inside, then stitched him back up. Upon returning home, she buried the clown toy in the back of her closet, behind her sweaters and winter slacks.  
  
Then she moved on to a wholesale overhaul of her room. She reprioritized everything and made everything have concrete locations. That way she could tell if her room had been invaded at a glance. In doing so, she re-found The Labyrinth. A strange feeling hummed through her when she touched it, but it made her nervous. She filed it away with her other books, and it sat there until Toby's birth.  
  
When Toby entered the world, Sarah discovered the Labyrinth. Not just the book.  
  
When Sarah returned home, having defeated the only man who had ever understood her, and having rescued the child she bitterly resented yet deeply loved, she became aware of several things. The first was that she 15. It was time to put away the childish toys and, with them, childish behavior. She didn't have to give up her dreaming, just her babyish, bratty ways.  
  
The second was that her closest friend, though she was a world away, had a copy of the book. She should warn her!  
  
The third was more of an acceptance. She accepted that her mom wasn't the most perfect mother and that her stepmother wasn't a horrid beast. She resolved to try to make peace. Especially, she thought with a slightly cruel smile, since it would likely throw her stepmother for a loop.  
  
For the first time, Sarah wrote Trixie a deliciously long letter from her own room. She was flush from her victory in the Labyrinth and felt invincible. She was unaware of the owl that had checked in on her. 


	4. Chapter Four Texas Dreaming

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?Ooooh, really late, I know. Sorry, sorry. It's just so hard to get to the darn computer lab with this cast slowing me down and no elevators to take me to the fourth floor. That's one good thing about returning to the States. My own computer. Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: This chapter is set AFTER the movie, and this chapter is longer than the previous three.  
  
Note 2: Updated, corrected, slightly edited 8-12-02.  
  
Here we go! (Can't think of anything in Japanese right now.)  
  
Chapter Four -?Texas Dreaming  
  
6:30 am. Jeannie groaned as she hopped out of the family van and shrugged her way-too-heavy backpack onto her thin shoulders. "Bye, Mom." she muttered as her brother slammed the sliding door shut in her face. In the gray morning, the white van drove off, tail lights barely shining through the faint mist of the dew. Jeannie shivered a little in the cool Texas morning.  
  
Her jacket was slung about her waist. She wore sneakers, jeans and a baggy shirt to hide her lack of curves. Jeannie's blond hair was shoulder- length, glasses marred her face's sweet beauty, and she stood only about 5 foot 3 inches on a campus of insanely taller, more grown up looking teenagers. At fifteen, she weighed only barely enough to keep her on the ground, despite the fact that she ate tons of junk food everyday. She envied her two best friends, Melanie and Deborah, who, though they complained of being overweight, had curves to spare and didn't look like they'd just wandered off a middle school campus. She was insecure, but very talkative and often had her nose stuck in a book, though rarely a textbook.  
  
She wandered over the dew wet grass, heading towards the school cafeteria, a huge place in the morning, before school, and a tiny place at lunch time. Her school was over-crowded, but she didn't mind much. She idly marveled at the coldness of the dew as it seeped into her shoes when in a mere half an hour, the Texas sun would be scorching the life out of everything underneath it. Personally, she loved the sun. Warm rays after the icy cold of air-conditioned, moldy old classrooms could ease away almost all of her school-day tensions. But at 6:30 am, she was barely awake, grumpy at the earliness of the hour and heading into another icy vault of stale air. "Why is everyone in Texas such a wimp?" she wondered as she opened the cafeteria's door and slipped in. "Absolutely freezing," she whimpered mentally, hugging herself as she walked toward their usual table.  
  
Melinda, or Mel for short, was already sitting at the table, her bags piled round her, homework out in front of her, pack of cards pushed to one side. Jeannie checked cursorily to make sure there were no open cartons of milk or cans of soda, then slung her bag onto the wood and metal folding table with a very loud "thunk!" Mel looked up, grumpy sleepiness in her dark eyes. "Morning, Jean." she muttered, before returning back to her worst enemy, math.  
  
"Mornin', Mel." came the equally muttered response. She gave Mel's homework a quick glance, then settled into her own chair, pulling her lightweight jacket on. Mel already wore hers. "15 minutes to cookies." Jeannie advised. Mel didn't look up but handed her a dollar and some change. "Ya want 10 cookies and chocolate milk?" Jeannie confirmed. Mel only nodded. "Kewl." She pulled out her own money and wandered over to wait in the fairly short line.  
  
Their high school's cafeteria was good for three things; chocolate chip cookies, greasy and soft, French fries, crispy and over-salty, and delicious ice cream sold by an outside company. The usual staples of a high school kid's diet; despite the required subjects of Physical Education and Health's attempts to educate them about the value of vegetables. No way Jeannie was eating a vegetable, no thank you. Disgusting green things that made everything she ate afterwards taste less palatable. It was a junk food diet for her and only God knew why she retained a slim body. If only that body had a few curves, she lamented often, looking down at a body that still looked the same as it had when she was 10.  
  
Finally, the gate opened and the early morning students filed in. Some picked up breakfast tacos, some chose cereal, many jostled for a large helping of cookies and most grabbed milks. The cafeteria lady shook her head as Jeannie paid for 20 cookies and two chocolate milks, thinking about what that much fat would do to her own already heavy-set body. But Jeannie just said good morning and headed back to her table to give Mel some of that wonderful junky goodness that would put a smile on her face.  
  
Mel thanked her perfunctorily, then blotted the cookies with the extra napkins Jeannie had brought. There was a moment of perfect silence as both girls filled empty tummies with warm, soft, gooey, chocolate-y cookies. They devoured five, then forced themselves to wrap the other five up for lunchtime. Once that business was done, Mel went back to her homework, but more cheerfully, and Jeannie settled in to re-read her latest letter from Sarah. They ignored the hustle and bustle as more students arrived to grab breakfast.  
  
Sarah's letter worried Jeannie. It was all about a place called the Labyrinth, a wicked yet handsome king named Jareth and some very odd creatures that Sarah called her friends. But Jeannie knew that Sarah had been playacting the story in the book they had both been given. Jeannie hadn't ever read it herself, though she wasn't sure why. But Sarah had told her a few things. Now Jeannie was worried. Sarah sounded unstable. Was it possible that she was hallucinating? Or was it just a weird dream that had felt so real? She would call Sarah tonight, while her family was still at school and soccer games. Since she was the only one that didn't go to the school her mother taught at, she was often out of the loop in her family's life.  
  
She drafted a letter to Sarah throughout the school day, not paying much attention in class; and, in most of her classes, not really needing to. She finished it up; it was full of banalities, describing her friends, her classes, what TV shows and music she liked now, all things that avoided any mention of the Labyrinth. Finally the last bell rang and it was out to the bus circle to await her bus and head home.  
  
Her friend Debbie showed up, the first time Jeannie and Mel had seen her that day. She came over and they chatted about the school day for a while, made plans to see a movie on the weekend, then said goodbye. She headed off to the front of campus to be picked up by her mom. Mel's bus came and Jeannie and Mel waved goodbye. Other friends came and went, some members of clubs, some getting on buses. Jeannie's bus never came 'til almost 5:00. She hated that so much. School went from 8:45 to 3:45, but she could never get home until after 5 pm. She, Mel and Debbie all lived in the same neighborhood, but because there were so many people in the neighborhood, it was divided up into two school bus routes. Mel and Debbie had the same bus, but Debbie hated the school bus and rarely rode it. Jeannie, only two blocks down on the same road as Mel, rode a different bus and usually rode it in silence, her nose buried in a book.  
  
When she finally got home, she flew into the house, her mangy cat on her tail, yowling for food. She tossed her bag in one corner of the family room, let the dog in, grabbed her phone card and started dialing, then remembered the time difference. "What time was it in England?" she wondered. She couldn't remember. Her brain felt really fuzzy. She felt compelled to find the book and read it. She wandered almost zombie-like to her room and dug out the slim volume. Then, returning to the sunny family room, she flung herself onto the couch and devoured the book faster than anything else she had ever read. And for a speed reader, that was saying a lot. But she felt a strange urge compelling her to finish the book quickly.  
  
From the beginning, she was chilled to realize that the story was about Sarah. It said Sarah, it said Toby, it described her best friend perfectly. It ended with the party in Sarah's room and the owl on the outside, looking in. She uneasily recalled what Sarah had said, "I need all of you." 'All of you' would include Jareth, wouldn't it? She willed Sarah to call her. It was a Friday night after all. Sarah would be alone with Toby long enough for her to have a nice, private conversation. Unless Sarah's nasty step-mother had tapped the phone line, Jeannie thought darkly. She wouldn't be surprised if that nosy woman did.  
  
The phone rang. Jeannie dived for it, snatching it up by the second ring. "Hello?" she asked breathlessly.  
  
"Hi, Trix." Sarah sounded odd, depressed somehow. Jeannie's worries grew. They started talking immediately, both at once. Sarah laughed hollowly, "You first."  
  
Jeannie started talking to her about the book. "Honey, my copy, it's you, your life, our dreams, your family! How can this be?"  
  
Sarah was rifling through her correspondence, especially looking at the letters which talked about some of Jeannie's friends. She had wondered why Jeannie had made friends with girls who seemed so very different from her. They weren't big readers, or interested in acting or writing, for the most part. Now, as she listened to Jeannie trying to be so logical, she wondered how her friend could have changed this much.  
  
Finally she interrupted her rambling friend. "Trix, it was real, it happened. I wished Toby away and I faced the Goblin King." Idly, she repeated some of his words, mimicking his voice, picturing him before her, as she had been doing for the past week. "I trembled before him, he was frightening. But I challenged him, Trix. And I saved Toby."  
  
"You're in love with him!" Jeannie gasped.  
  
"Oh Jeannie!" Sarah was so upset, she dropped the nickname. "I killed him!" She winced at the echo of her voice, grateful the storm that had sprung up had forced her parents to take refuge at the hotel where they had been dining. "Can't you understand that?" She was near tears. "Oh, Jareth." her sob was whisper-soft.  
  
"How could you have killed him? It hints in the book that he was watching you at the party."  
  
"How do you know about the party?" Sarah asked slowly, her eyes riveted on the silent lightning flashes of the advancing storm. She never heard the answer. A black-gloved hand smoothly pulled the phone away from her. She stared in shock at the reflection of herself in the glass, and of the man behind her.  
  
"Sorry, Sarah can't talk now." The voice slid out of the phone seductively, swirling about Jeannie.  
  
She knew who it was immediately. "Jareth." Her voice was a mere breath. A light chuckle confirmed her suspicion. "Don't you go near her!" she warned quickly, her anger boiling up out of nowhere, deep and protective.  
  
"Tsk tsk. You know the tale." he scolded gently. Then the phone went dead. A pale version of Jeannie shakingly pulled out her copy of the Labyrinth. As she feared, there was now more. Their conversation appeared in crimson letters fading to black. Mesmerized, horrified, frightened, she watched what was happening become printed word. 


	5. Chapter Five Shattered Crystals

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?Here ya are, two chapters on the same day. Ain't yall lucky? Hope someone likes it enough to review; reviews really cheer this cripple up. Or, as my Irish friends are calling me, "Peg leg." Only 14 more days 'til I get this cast off! Be happy for me!!  
  
Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: This chapter, too, is set a week AFTER the movie, and in this chapter the rating goes up.  
  
Note 2: Updated, corrected, slightly edited 8-12-02)  
  
Erm, let's read? (Can't think of anything in English or Japanese right now.)  
  
Chapter Five -?Shattered Crystals  
  
Jareth was well aware he had an audience. He could feel it when either of the girls touched the book. It was like they were touching him. He'd grown addicted to the feel of Sarah's hands on the book, the way it felt like she was touching his soul. Trixie's hands felt good too, but it was Sarah's touch he craved. He looked at her, regretting yet again that she was so young, so innocent. He wanted her, but he didn't want to destroy her innocence. He didn't want the hate that would follow. He had to be careful, to watch his temper.  
  
From age 10, Sarah had fascinated him, as much as he fascinated her. 'Little Trix', as he thought of her, did not fascinate him and so, she was easy to dismiss from his thoughts. Dreamer that she was, even though it had lessened a great deal, Trix was not fascinated by him.  
  
"Sarah." he breathed her name and saw her shiver.  
  
"You . . . you're dead." she was almost crying now. "I didn't mean to . . . I mean, I . . . I just . . . Toby! You're here for Toby!" She whirled to run upstairs, but he caught her by the arm. She froze. He hadn't touched her except in the ballroom. She stared at his hand.  
  
"Forget about the baby." This time his voice worked its magic. She relaxed, turned towards him. He pulled her closer, a heavy magic singing in the air, gliding over her skin like an exotically perfumed lotion. Her head spun and she allowed him to lead her to her room. The storm rumbled overhead, but she didn't hear it.  
  
The giddiness fled a bit when she felt the edge of her bed against the backs of her calves. She fought her way out of his haze, which made Jareth proud. He smiled down at her in an indescribably heartbreaking manner. "It's you I am here for." he confessed, reclining against the wall and staring deep into her cruel eyes.  
  
A part of Sarah went Firey wild. She broke apart, flew, melted, screamed, fainted, wanted to punch him and also wanted to kiss him. But the part controlling her logical thinking had grown stronger in the Labyrinth. "Why?"  
  
"You mean you don't know?" He sighed, hurt, but attributed it to the awful school system these days. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. As I told you, I reordered time, I gave you your dreams, I changed the world for you!" He moved closer, "Only for you!"  
  
"You've stolen Toby . . ."  
  
"You asked it."  
  
"frightened me, threatened my friends . . ."  
  
"They are my subjects." he reminded her firmly.  
  
"frightened Trixie . . ."  
  
He could not deny that.  
  
"nearly killed me!"  
  
"Only nearly, my dear girl. I would never have truly hurt you."  
  
"I didn't know that!" she snapped. Suddenly, she was furious with him.  
  
His eyes widened, seeing her anger. "Sarah," he pleaded, sensing things were getting out of control.  
  
She searched for the cruelest thing she could say. He'd said she was cruel, and . . . yes, the words popped into her mind and fell from her mouth before she could think. "I don't believe in you!" she declared harshly. His face, oh his face! She violently restrained an urge to run away. She pushed on. "I've caught a chill, I'm hallucinating, this isn't happening." She sat on her bed, clutching her head, trying to will this all to be a nightmare.  
  
"You don't believe in me?" His voice was like an icy wind, harsh and lashing. He moved quickly, fury getting the better of him, all his fine notions and smooth behaviors gone in a flash. He pushed her down on the bed, pinning her beneath him, forcing her to stare into his mismatched eyes. "Would I be more real to you if I behave like the animal brutes you call human? Is that what you truly want? Not to be understood, but to have your wishes ignored? Are you like so many other human females, who cry for respect but crave domination?" He sneered the word "human" with a deep disgust. "I had you in the palm of my hand at the ball. At any time I could have brought you to my palace and treated you anyway I wished. I could have offered you Toby back for a price your kind never minds paying." He flung himself away from her and stood staring down at her. He raked her outstretched, pajama-clad body with hot eyes, but they were hot with disgust.  
  
He lowered his voice, his voice a mockery of the gentle voice he had used before. "Would you have done that, Sarah? Laid down in my bed for Toby?"  
  
"Don't talk to me like that!" There was very little strength in her voice, however. Tears rolled silently down her face. That innocence that Jareth had considered so precious was shattering around her.  
  
"I loved you, Sarah. But I see now that what I loved about you was as false as your costumes. You are just like all the other boring Earth girls that claim to dream, but are owned by what they call 'reality.'" He turned away. "Yet I still love you, Sarah." There was regret in his voice; he regretted deeply what had just happened here. It was the closest he could come to apologizing. Yet her declaration of disbelief still burned his soul. He leaned heavily against the vanity. His gaze fell on the picture of them. He lifted it up. "Even then, I was with you." He tossed the antique gilt frame at her.  
  
She picked it up, shaking. Stared into the picture, seeing herself at that tender, innocent stage. Her eyes moved to Trixie's happy face. They stood arms tightly about each other, heads tilted together, hair mingling. Merlin sat in front, on their feet, as she remembered. And then . . . wait, the owl! She glanced up at him, "You were there?" Her question was a timid whisper.  
  
He watched her in the mirror. "Yes." He nodded just once, controlling his feelings only with great effort.  
  
"You . . . pervert!" She sat up, eyes wild. "You've been watching me since I was 10?" Her voice ended on a shriek and from elsewhere she heard Toby begin to wail. She didn't care. "You sick bastard!"  
  
He cut her off. "How dare you!" He tossed a crystal at her and she flinched away, completely distrusting it. "I spend my life helping children! I have never . . . what you suspect . . ." he shuddered. Recovering himself, he addressed her icily. "I watched you because you were interesting. You and your friend had such beautiful dreams. Dreams are my business. It's been so long since great dreamers have been seen above ground. But I saw potential in you."  
  
"You set me up! You trapped me with that book!"  
  
"I spoke to you through the book. You followed it of your own will. You didn't understand it then and you don't understand it now. I thought you were finally growing up. But now I see you were only trying on another part."  
  
He spoke to her now from the window. "You more than Trixie, but both of you, had what I needed. Fresh dreams, pure hopes, a reason to stay alive. With the fading of the Fae from the Earth, the fading of most people's belief in anything but science, my heart darkens. Boring dreams filled with hate and lust wreak havoc on lands that are half built on human dreams." He sighed. "But Trixie, she only dreams when she had the time. She's caught up in school and life. Her dreams have shrunk. With her friends she plans a small life. Her friends are at the center of her dreams. Why, sometimes she even completely gives up on love. She's bought into the fashion magazine definition of beauty. Her wildest dreams revolve around books and TV, another person's creation. The only time she releases her magic is when she writes. And lately, it's only been harsh reality poems." He sighed again and Sarah felt weird hearing her friend discussed like this. "I moved the stars for a girl who is only a great pretender. How you fooled me, my precious thing." He seemed to be even older than he'd appeared at their final confrontation. "That's a gift." He pointed listlessly at the crystal that had settled in the middle of her bed. "It will let you talk to Trixie at anytime. But keep it hidden."  
  
Sarah looked at it hungrily, but warily.  
  
"There's no trick." He had crossed the room to stand before her, tugging at a glove. "Farewell, Sarah. I will not reveal your deception to my subjects. They will remain free to visit you whenever you both wish." He bowed distantly to her. "Such a pity." he murmured. Then, he was gone.  
  
It took Sarah a few moments to realize he hadn't been pitying himself. Her rage fled and she flew to the window. "Jareth!" The wind carried her call away. "What have I done?" she whispered.  
  
"Oh, Honey!" In Texas, Trixie wept. "Poor Jareth." 


	6. Chapter Six Three Lives, One Book

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?I'm back! My family is visiting me here in Kyoto, so I haven't had much time to write, but I can now. Happy? Tell me! Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: This chapter is set AFTER the movie, and will actually deal with both girls.  
  
PS: Thanks to all my reviewers!! By the way, what do y'all think of Trixie/Jeannie? Like her? Hate her? Don't care? I'm really curious, since she is one-third of the story. : So, please, lemme know? You can also always drop me a line at fieryfaerie@yahoo.com. Don't kill me if the replies are slow, I am in Japan, y'know.  
  
Without further ado, Chapter Six! (Can't say that in Japanese yet.)  
  
Chapter Six -?Three Lives, One Book  
  
Sarah stood at the window for a long time after he'd left, rain mingling with the tears on her face. She called and called, but to no avail. He was gone.  
  
She didn't know how long it was before Toby's hoarse crying finally broke through her daze. Pulling the window shut, she idly noticed how the rain had soaked into her carpet, her curtains and had even been blown into the room to dampen many of her toys and books. She shivered as she walked down the hallway to Toby's room. She comforted him distractedly, not noting his unhappiness at being clutched to her wet clothing. In the end, it was only his deep exhaustion that finally wore the baby out.  
  
Sarah made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, the night's confrontation playing out in her mind. She thought back to how shocked she'd been to see Jareth standing behind her, shocked, happy, and, what had Trix accused her of? Being in love with him? She stared at herself in the mirror and her lips curled sardonically. In love? With him? She laughed harshly, tears standing on her lashes as she looked at her lips and remembered how he had looked at them, both in the ballroom and in her bedroom before she'd insulted him. Like he'd been going to kiss her. She could see the heat in his eyes, her own reflection fading from view. He'd told her the truth, he loved her.  
  
Slowly she let her eyes slip over the body he had stared at, lain over, with such possessive audacity. She slid her damp pajamas to the floor and turned her back on her reflection, running the tub, filling it with hot water. She avoided the mirror's gaze as she watched the water gurgling up. She poured a generous helping of lavender bubble bath under the tap and amused herself by watching the bubbles float in clumps.  
  
When the tub was filled to just the perfect height of water to accommodate her body without sloshing out, she slipped in, closing her eyes and savoring the heat after the chill of the rain and damp clothes. She forced everything from her thoughts, choosing to compose her next essay for history class in her mind.  
  
**************  
  
Jeannie's mother pulled into the garage, the noise of the garage door alerting her to the end of her solitude. She quickly grabbed her backpack and slipped into her room. She shoved the book under her pillow just as her mom walked into the house, following two arguing preteen boys and a singing 9 year old girl. "Hello!" her mom sang out, opening her door after a quick rap on the French doors of Jeannie's room.  
  
"Hi, Mom." Jeannie replied distantly, feigning concentration on her homework.  
  
Her mom smiled tiredly. "Sorry we're so late. I'm going to order pizza."  
  
Jeannie looked up and forced a smile. "Yum!"  
  
Her mom, tired and worn out from her long day and long drive home with three grumpy kids, smiled and closed the door, happy to not have to endure Jeannie's complaints about dinner on top of everything else. She headed to the family room to call Pizza Hut, then to get back to grading papers. The boys moved upstairs to take out their hostility towards each other through Mortal Kombat and Lisa turned on the TV and chattered to her distracted mom.  
  
Jeannie hid in her room, staring at the book, almost hypnotized. Finally, she decided it was too personal to read about Sarah like that. But, as she went to stuff it in her desk, her hand was shaking so badly it fell to the floor. She looked down at it and noted that it had fallen open at the beginning of the book. Absently, she glanced over it and realized that the beginning had changed. Curious, she picked it up, and found a brief history of the Labyrinth.  
  
****++++****  
  
"Jareth has been the King of the Labyrinth since its creation. A war between the Fae kind and the Human kind was tearing Earth apart. In desperation, his parents, two of the last powerful Fae left on Earth, created a land Underground, where they sent their infant son, a few of the older Fae, many of the pacifist Fae, as well as all those creatures of magic that preferred to accept life in exile rather than almost certain death at the hands of the Humans."  
  
"In order to build this realm, it had to be built on magic. But the cost of sustaining that magic could not be bourne by the inhabitants of the Underground alone. It had to also have an above ground source. That source was chosen as dreams. Human dreams give magic to the Underground to keep the land stable. If Human dreams can not provide this magic, the drain is bourne by Jareth himself."  
  
"Jareth grew up bitter. He did not wish to be trapped here. He despised the Humans for their selfish need to steal Earth for themselves. He wanted revenge for the deaths of his parents and the enforced exile of his people. He found out his special power when he turned 10 Human years. His was the ability to not only see a Human's dreams, but to affect them. But, in order to stay young and powerful, in order for his lands to stay fruitful and peaceful, Human dreams were vital."  
  
"The perfect plan for revenge came to Jareth as he watched Earth through his crystals and wandered through their dreams at night. Some of the most valuable dreams for his lands were boring and mundane to him. Simple dreams, most often young women's dreams, the dreams of a good man, a nice home and children, fed the stability and peacefulness of the Underground. But they also gave Jareth an idea. Most people cherished their children; but sometimes, they grew angry or frustrated. Suppose he wove a spell, that if they said the right words, he could take the children? He set about his plan, and on the night of its completion, he manipulated a playwright's dreams. The next morning, the playwright began writing a play that told of a frustrated young woman who was forced to take care of a child that was spoiled and loved, whereas she was abused and despised."  
  
"She wished away the child, the love of the Goblin King an additional hook added by the two-bit playwright hack for sentimental value. The play wasn't a hit, but it served its purpose. People turned the play into an old wives' tale. People wished their babies away."  
  
"In some lands, Jareth sent goblins. In others, he sent brownies. But in no land did someone realize they could challenge him for a very long time. But for all Jareth's plans for revenge, he found he could not harm his new subjects. So, he took care of them, raising them up as if they had been born to the Underground. He never told them they had been rejected. As time passed, the people above ground became more and more cruel. Many times children were wished away by neglectful, abusive parents. Jareth began appearing himself to deal with the remorseless wishers. He gave them the chance to face his Labyrinth. Very few accepted, all failed."  
  
"In all the wished away children, he looked for the potential to be a companion. He found many girls who, at one time or another, were happy to share his bed. He made good friends of both sexes. But he never found the perfect companion, not a friend to be his right hand, his most trusted advisor, to understand the burdens of his position; nor a woman to be his queen, his succor, his perfect match. He grew lonely and heartsick, wondering where he could find his own dreams. Was it too much to ask that he might have true love and true friendship?"  
  
"Centuries passed. Logic and science took the place of faith and wild dreaming. Jareth became a mere myth, something to be laughed at. His name had long been forgotten, except sometimes parents might conjure him up as a Boogeyman, terrorizing naughty children with the fear that if they misbehaved, "the Boogeyman will get you!" Dreams became wrapped up with war, lust, greed, vengeance and hate. The simple dreams remained, but the dark dreams lent instability to the land, counterbalancing the good of the simple dreams. Jareth grew disillusioned and began to spend long hours moping, trying to leave everything behind. He searched the heavens for answers, but none came. To find the kind of dreamers he sought, he had to search long and hard. He only found them by chance. But when he found one, it was like a new lease on life. He followed the dreamer's life with great interest and hope."  
  
**************  
  
Jareth could feel Jeannie's hands on his soul. He knew she was reading about his past. He didn't care. He had shut himself up in his study, with a good bottle of old wine and a very old friend. He drank until he didn't see Sarah's face anymore. Drank 'til he didn't hear her saying she didn't believe in him anymore. But when he'd drunk 'til he slept, he dreamt of her.  
  
He settled into a deep depression. He broke his crystal viewing pane, occasionally amusing himself by watching the above ground through its fractured lens. It fit the way his soul felt, he decided.  
  
His friends, his subjects, all but his goblins steered clear of the Labyrinth and the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Only the short-memoried goblins could withstand the moody king's rages. And a good number of them got dropped into the Bog for their efforts to cheer him up. Not that there was much difference between their previous rank stench and the Bog's. The Bog's stench was just stronger. But a goblin's nose isn't very sensitive and Jareth didn't care what he smelt, what he ate, what he did. He was alone.  
  
**************  
  
Jeannie hid the book. The prologue had interested her a great deal, but once the pizza arrived and hit her stomach, she realized the danger of the book. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life watching what Sarah was doing. She didn't think Sarah would want that. So, she went into her nightmare closet, a one-time walk-in closet that was now a climb-in closet. She climbed to the top of clothes and games and toys and books and she made a hole that burrowed about halfway down. She put the book in the bottom of that hole in the pile of junk and covered it back up. And there it sat until Jeannie moved out for college.  
  
When it came time for college, she and her best friend Melinda decided to go to the same college. They got a dorm room together at first, but although they loved each other dearly, they didn't make good housemates. After a big fight, they split up into separate apartments, still nearby each other, but far enough away that each girl's bad habits didn't drive the other crazy.  
  
Jeannie maintained contact with all her friends, Sarah, Debbie, Mel, Rikki and Solei. Debbie moved to the coast to study ecology. Rikki was still in high school and Solei studied music, composing professionally for a play in her home country, Greece. She didn't see any of them often, with the exception of Mel. She dated casually, but didn't get seriously involved with anyone. At 18 years old, she and Sarah were still Trix and Honey, still writing letters by hand to each other, though emailing everyone else. The crystal ball that had appeared on her dresser the day of Sarah and Jareth's big fight collected dust. She never allowed it to be touched and she always handled it with a cloth. It made her nervous.  
  
**************  
  
Sarah reluctantly left the warm bath and shivering, wrapped herself up in her teddy-bear brown fluffy bath towel. She padded over to look at herself in the steam-covered mirror. She tilted her head as she studied herself. She was unaware that she was speaking out loud. She traced the curve of her jaw with her finger. "Do you find me beautiful, Jareth?" she murmured. Her hand strayed to her mouth. "Is this the mouth you long to kiss?" Her eyes were mocking despite the soft, almost languid tone of her voice. She imagined him looking at her, was certain he was watching. She slid the towel from her body and glanced down at herself. Then, looking at her reflection but imagining Jareth watching her, she asked, "Do you want me? You do?" A harsh laugh escaped her throat. "Never you, Jareth. Never!" There was no wildness in her eyes now; only a determination to hurt him.  
  
He was always watching wasn't he? So surely the little prick was watching now. That thought impelled her. She moved to her closet, so neatly arranged, and began putting together some new outfits. A tight dress her mother had bought her. A few blouses she had put away because they were too short, ending at or a little above her waist. A pair of jeans that hugged her curves just right.  
  
She pulled out her diary. With a bold red pen, she wrote:  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
Today begins a new plan for my life. Soft and sweet Honey is dead. From now on, I will be bold and sexy Sarah. He has been watching me, waiting for me to grow up, thinking he can have me if he waits long enough. He claims to love me, yet he set me up. Probably hoped I would fail and then he could keep Toby and me! But I am going to deny him his dreams. And I am going to start tomorrow. Tomorrow, I am going to get a date.  
  
Step one: New clothes. No more dreamy, loose clothes for me. If J. noticed my body, then with the right clothes, I can attract any man. And to hurt J., any man will do.  
  
Step two: New attitude. No more rushing off to the park. No, I'm going to hang around school and get noticed. I'm going to learn how to turn guys' heads.  
  
Step three: Get a date. Any guy, as long as he's good- looking, will do. Preferably with a car.  
  
Step four: First kiss. Gotta stage it just right. Make sure J. can't miss it. Let him know just how glad I am that I escaped his kiss in the ballroom.  
  
I'll detail the rest of my plans later. Have to make it look like I went to bed at a decent hour before the parents arrive home.  
  
Sarah tucked the diary back into its hiding place and went to bed. The next weekend, Karen had to find a babysitter; because, after all, she couldn't give up her dinner with Robert just because Sarah had a date. Sarah and her date shared a most romantic kiss under a full moon, a perfect night for a white owl to see everything, should he be watching.  
  
Sarah's new style was carefully hidden from Jeannie. She still signed her letters "H." and still called her Trix, but much of her life was kept out of the letters and phone calls. She moved towards graduation, trying not to think of Jareth and yet to hurt him at the same time. She had many one- sided arguments with him in her mind, arguments that she always won. She was very careful to never say his name.  
  
**************  
  
Jareth spent five years in deep depression. Each year was no better or worse that the one before it. It was just an interminable expanse of time of which he could see no end. He wanted to die, but he couldn't do that to his subjects. He wanted to blot out her memory, but the drunker he got, the sooner he dreamt of her. Neither girl picked up his crystal or touched his book. He had lost them both. Disappointment filled his soul with rages and moodiness. His children stayed away, not because they were afraid of him, but because he refused to see them.  
  
It took a desperate cry for help, to be summoned by his own name, to break through the lethargy. He didn't even pause to think. His name echoed throughout the castle, a high-pitched scream, but in a flurry of feathers, he was already gone. He left behind a rudely awakened nest of goblins who looked around blearily, wondering who had screamed. 


	7. Chapter Seven Goblin Time

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?Yay! 7 more days 'til freedom from my stinking cast!!! Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol Oh, and Vincent, he's all mine, no one inspired him. But if anyone wants him, please, take him away *grin* Rating for violence, language, suggestiveness, eh, you name it. Pwease review. *puppy eyes* Love to all who reviewed before!!! Thanks!!!!!!  
  
Please Note: From this chapter on, the story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
And now, Chapter Seven! (Soshite, Dainanashou!)  
  
Chapter Seven - Goblin Time  
  
Jeannie stepped outside, calling out a cheery good night to a few of her friends. Mel and Jay were climbing into her car. Solei was waving good night from her parents sleek Benz. The cool October night cut through Jeannie's costume as she turned away from the brightly lit house of one of her college friends and began her 15 minute walk back to her apartment building.  
  
It was Halloween night, her favorite night of the year. A night of goblins and ghosts, all played by trick-or-treating little kids or partying adults. She'd recently turned 20 and was amused as some her friends rowdily bid goodbye to their last alcohol-free Halloween. Next year, they would be legal and they too would be getting as tipsy as their older friends always did. Jeannie didn't care; she didn't like the taste of wine or champagne and hated the smell of beer, so she wasn't counting down to 21. She was counting down 'til 2 am, when Sarah would call her. Then they would tell each other how their Halloween had been, both avoiding any mention of the one man that Halloween always reminded them of, before Trix would collapse into bed and Honey would begin her day.  
  
Jeannie was happy as she walked, savouring the feel of Halloween night, the faint humming magic one could hear in the air. It was a night of dreams, some dark and some fantastic, but a night when everyone could take their fantasies out into the dark night and let them play. She herself had let out one of her own fantasies. She was dressed as Sleeping Beauty. A crown of gold paperboard, cut out to match the Disney cartoon one, sat atop her difficult to restrain blonde hair. Mel had helped her shape her hair into the Disney-specified style, but it had been an ordeal. Mel was terrified of hurting her friend and complained that they should have bought a wig. She'd chosen to opt out of trying to buy or sew the dress seen in the animation, knowing that, ideally, she would have wanted the mixed dress created when the feuding faeries had turned it half pink and half blue. Instead, she borrowed a gauzy rose pink gown and a gauzy deep blue gown from her amateur theatre's prop department. They were used as over-gowns for faeries in a stage adaptation of Thumbelina. Underneath would be worn a skin-tone bodysuit. Jeannie layered them over a cream sleeveless slip dress that she took from her prom dress, so that she had an elegant-looking ensemble that shifted colors as she walked.  
  
Her costume had been admired, which had added a plum to her night. The only disappointment was that someone must have let her costuming plan slip to her ex-boyfriend Vincent, because he showed up as Prince Phillip, which only added to her displeasure. He'd tried to talk to her, but she avoided him. He'd dumped her in a fit of pique because she wouldn't sleep with him, but now he seemed to regret his actions. Sarah had advised that it was just another trick to get her to lower her guard and Jeannie knew it too. He'd finally left and she'd been able to fully enjoy the party without worrying about his eyes.  
  
She was rounding a corner, only five minutes from home, when she became aware someone was behind her. She tried to think of what she should do, but when a strong arm suddenly wrapped about her throat and cold steel touched her forehead, the only?one thing came to mind. The name of the man whose voice had whispered in her mind for five years, who was always on her mind, who she tried not to think about. She whispered it, fear coloring and shaping it, "Jareth!"  
  
As soon as the arm coiled about her neck, she instinctively clutched it with both hands. She couldn't loosen the grip, however, and her attacker growled in her ear, "Not a sound, or I'll kill you." She couldn't tell if he meant it or not, and in her fear-benumbed state, she allowed him to push her into an alley. She cursed at herself for the clichéd-ness of this attack. How many times had she been warned to stay with a group of people? But no, she just had to walk home, by herself, at night, on the most dangerous night of the year.  
  
But, Jeannie was a fighter. She'd scrapped with her younger brothers a lot and she wasn't about to let this guy off easy. Besides, her detective story-loving brain reminded her, usually when the victim fought back, more clues were left behind for the police. She feigned a faint. When the assailant grunted in surprise at the sudden dead weight in his arms, she managed to knock the gun away. It skittered to a stop in the faint light from the entrance to the alleyway. Jeannie broke his grip at the same time and managed to face her attacker.  
  
Jareth blinked confusedly when he found himself in a dank, dark, garbage- strewn alley. "Sarah?" he asked softly. There were only the sounds of grunting and whimpering. He moved fast, gut twisting with a sickening suspicion. But it wasn't Sarah who had summoned him, he realized suddenly. He looked at Jeannie, her terror-numbed passivity now fled. She was struggling with her attacker; a gun skidded to rest just in front of him. As he watched, the assailant suddenly gained the upper hand, bringing his strength to bear. He slammed her back against the wall, knocking the breath out of her and stunning her. She kicked out as she lost her balance, but that only succeeded in bringing him crashing down atop her. Her head hit the ground with a thud as she fell face-down. He quickly pinned her, flipping her onto her back, legs straddling her body, his chest crushing hers. Jareth was disturbingly reminded of his behavior towards Sarah, but he forced the memory aside. The two began to speak and Jareth inched closer.  
  
The man grabbed a handful of Jeannie's hair and forced her to look up at him. He slid off her long enough to push her dresses up above her waist. Her eyes blinked rapidly, trying to focus clearly enough to see her attacker's face. He was sitting on her, leaning over so that his face was very close to hers. "You bitch. Did you think I dated you for your babbling words?" He released her hair and his hands began pulling her dresses up higher, fumbling for the catch of her bra. "No one turns me down, baby."  
  
The cheap mask had kept her from recognizing him, but when he said that last line she knew exactly who it was. Vincent, the little . . . "So you're a serial rapist, then?" she tossed back, ignoring the blood trickling from her mouth. "Can't get it up unless she's beat down? Not much of a man, are you?" Her taunts earned her a blow across the face. The force of the blow knocked her head into the wall with a sickening crunch, followed by silence.  
  
It was the gushing blood that stopped the rapist short. "Jeannie? Jea. . ." He turned her head to him. "Oh, God!" he moaned. She lay perfectly still, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. Blood gushed out from the side of her head, her hair turned instantly red. Her skull looked misshapen.  
  
Jareth moved with the ferocity of a gryphon. Anger and magic merged, giving him the strength to toss the man like a rag doll. He landed amid garbage and trash cans, and slumped there, head lolling. Jareth ignored him, the rats, and the reeking garbage as he knelt beside the bleeding girl. He looked into her eyes and saw nothing. He knew she was dying. The vacant eyes unnerved him and he closed them as he tried to decide what to do. He couldn't save her here. Magic was too weak in this world. He needed to take her to his sickroom, where his skilled physicians could bring their magic to bear. But to do so, he needed someone who loved her enough to wish her away. He needed someone who believed, who understood. He didn't consider asking. He just pulled her to him.  
  
Sarah found herself in a filthy, creepy alley, looking at a blood-covered Jareth. She could see he was frantically touching a woman, pressing a cloth here, taking her pulse there. "Help me, Sarah." he pleaded, not daring to look up, away from the dying girl.  
  
Sarah was furious. For five years, he hadn't so much as shown a feather, hadn't come when she had called out to him, but now, when he needed something, he simply yanked her across space. What did he think she was? His toy, or maybe his slave? And who was this woman, anyway? Some woman who'd refused him, probably. She remembered his face when they had fought in her room. She had no doubt his temper could be lethal. But then, she reflected, so was hers. It had killed Jareth's interest in her, killed the girl she had been. "What have you done?" she demanded angrily. "Killed a prostitute?" She moved forward a little, the better to see her enemy. Then she fell to her knees. "Trixie!" She grasped one of her best friend's cold hands. "Trixie, no, no! Please God, no!" She began to cry.  
  
"Sarah, if you want to save her, you must help me." There was no seductive tone in his voice now, just a firm, yet pleading note.  
  
"Did you do . . ." Her question was barely formed in her mind and it was tumbling out of her mouth.  
  
"Sarah, yes or no?" Impatient now, demanding even.  
  
"All right!" Defeated, reluctantly accepting that now was not the time to air her suspicions. "What must I do?"  
  
"Wish her away." He made it sound so obvious.  
  
"What?" she shrieked, her voice echoing. Vince stirred on his garbage pile.  
  
His voice was like a professor's now, so firm and reasonable. "You are her best friend. You can take responsibility. Wish her away, then challenge me for her. I cannot save her here."  
  
"I." she struggled against herself. Finally, desperately, she looked at the face of her friend. "I wish the goblins would come and take you away . . . right now." She closed her eyes. When she calmed enough to see without tears, she looked around. Jeannie was gone. Jareth, the alley, they were gone, too. She was back in her own bedroom. Jareth did not show up. Her fury grew until she was certain he was not coming. She flew into a rage, cursing him and throwing things. She called Jareth every vile thing she could think of. Jareth could not hear her. He was too deeply involved in saving `little Trix.' 


	8. Chapter Eight Sarah's Eyes

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN:?Yay! 3 more days and the cast comes off! Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
So on with the story! (Sore ni, hanashi o tsuzukeru!)  
  
Chapter Eight - Sarah's Eyes  
  
Sarah had long since calmed down. She sat at the vanity in the bedroom she shared with Phillip, in the house she lived in alone. Sitting on the vanity was the book that had started everything. For five years, she had kept it locked away in various vanities, as a reminder. He was always watching, always waiting. If she slipped up, he would draw her back to him, lure her back.  
  
She had cut ties with the Labyrinth inhabitants after that horrible night. Now that she knew for certain he had been watching her, she wanted to control it as much as possible. She didn't want him to feel like he was invited as well if she called the others. She didn't want to put herself in a position where his magic would wind around her. She'd learned quickly. She'd been in a dangerous place the entire time he was around her. The love she had imagined in his eyes on the night her dreams came true, she now dismissed as lust. She'd easily seen the possessiveness in his eyes when he'd said he loved her.  
  
How she'd regretted the ending to their confrontation. She'd felt so guilty for hurting him, defeating him, that she had let him back in only a week later. But she was stronger now, different now. She could handle him, because, despite his magic, he was just a man. And men are so easy to handle, she smirked.  
  
She gazed at herself in the mirror, noting and reveling in the changes. Little Honey was nowhere to be found in those eyes. They were as hard and cold as the frozen earth in winter when she thought of Jareth. He had taken everything from her, her innocence, her dreams, even her happiness. She had lost her best friend, as well.  
  
Thinking of Trixie hurt. It was like a physical pain whenever she let herself think about the deceptions she had employed to keep Trixie out of her real life. She wanted to protect Trixie from what she thought of as Jareth's destructive touch. And now, because she had realized it was the only way to save her, she had sent the one person she cared enough about to protect, directly into the hands of the one person she would love to disembowel.  
  
Sarah couldn't explain why she hated him so. But the anger was something she fed carefully. Convinced he watched her, certain that he was like an unseen stalker, that little prickle that warned she wasn't alone, she lived her life as if on his own private stage. At first, she had hated him for that. She hated that she never knew if she was alone or not, if her silly or stupid actions were being watched. And then an idea had taken shape.  
  
When she'd staged her first kiss, she was ecstatic. Knowing he had to have seen it, had to be furiously jealous, she felt a thrumming of power rushing through her. She enjoyed every kiss she and Jake shared, more for the fact that Jareth was probably fuming yet unable to not watch than for the kiss itself. But when Jake had decided it was time to move further, Sarah hadn't been able to make herself continue the charade. She had broken up with him instead.  
  
That was when the arguments began. She would look into her mirror and pretend he was confronting her. She railed and ranted, perfecting her arguments, so that the next time he showed up, it would be her turn to slash him apart with cruel words. Her mind took things a bit further. She imagined herself seducing him, imagined his eyes as he thought he was getting what he wanted. She saw him putting himself into her power in order to have her and then, just when he couldn't take the suspense any longer, she would coolly walk away.  
  
But to do that, she needed to learn how, she mused. She practiced attracting boys and had lots of dates, while Karen clucked worriedly about all these boys coming and going. She couldn't go shopping without some gawky teenage boy asking her what kind of flowers Sarah liked or what music she listened to. She couldn't understand how Sarah had so quickly become so popular. Sarah seemed the same to her. Neither she nor Robert knew that as soon as Sarah rounded the corner from her house, the loose shirt came off to reveal a much sexier one and in the school bathroom, the jeans were changed to flirty skirts, her hairstyle was altered, even her shoes were switched. She worked hard to keep her new style hidden from her parents. The deeper she slipped into the dual-life, the more addicted she became to it.  
  
She lost her virginity when she was 17. It hadn't been the amazing thing of story books, but the best reward was the pain she was certain Jareth was suffering. From then on, she had a string of lovers, some much older than her, and some younger. She chose them carefully, not wanting to deal with someone who would become too attached or violent or someone that would cheat on her. She was very careful about disease and pregnancy, as she wasn't interested in either option. She also chose her lovers for what they could do for her. She still wanted to act, so her latest lover was Phillip, a TV and movie producer. He was one of her few married lovers, but Phillip was worth that risk and the reputation she got. He got her roles, most often in plays, but occasionally in TV pilots. None of the pilots had been picked up yet, but he assured her that sooner or later an exec would notice her and choose her for something bigger.  
  
Course, Phillip was too smart to let his mistress suddenly gain a big career. He knew that Sarah didn't love him. He could see something almost cruel in her eyes whenever they had sex, as if she was . . . well, he wasn't sure. He didn't love her, either, but she was beautiful, willing and honest. She wouldn't cheat on him and as long as she was his mistress, other men looked at him with envy. The only thing that ever made him feel a little bad about their relationship was the look of pained tolerance his wife often wore. But, usually, he tried not to think about it.  
  
In Sarah's mind, she had perfect control over all men, but one. She would never admit it, but she had eagerly looked forward to the day when Jareth would appear, insulted, outraged, and demanding to know how she could do this to him. She really hadn't expected to wait 'til 20; but now that he had shown up, she had to confess, though only to herself, she was practically dying for the long-awaited knock-down-drag-out fight that she was certain she would win.  
  
And yet, she mused, Jareth was a cold bastard. It was very probable that he had simply decided to keep Trix. It would be one form of revenge, she knew. Though she had long since gotten rid of any guilt over beating Jareth to save Toby, surely he knew she would never get over the guilt of giving him Trixie. She wondered what the Goblin King did with adults. She shivered, suddenly feeling cold. What had she done?  
  
Leaving the window wide open, just in case he did show up, she laid down to take a nap. But restful sleep didn't come. Trixie's battered face kept rising up before her. Could Jareth really save her? And if he did come, if he did allow her to face the Labyrinth again, what would he do to cheat this time? How would he have changed the Labyrinth now? "Where are you, you wretched bastard?" she hissed.  
  
Jareth was exhausted. He and his two most skilled physicians had wrestled with magic for hours. Human bodies were so frail, he worried. Could she withstand the influx of so much magic? Her brain was swelling, her skull crushed on the right side, her vitals so very weak. And yet, he could see she was fighting for life. She wasn't about to give up, which gave him great hope. If only . . .  
  
"Sire, she's been yelling." an elfling boy of perhaps 13 advised quietly.  
  
He didn't need to say anything else. Jareth knew immediately who. His thoughts of catching a few desperately needed hours of sleep receded. He needed to face her; there was no way around it. And he knew it would be painful. He'd heard the disdain, no, outright loathing in her voice. She despises me, he mourned. But his arrogant side answered back, "After all you did for her, the impudent wretch." He nodded his acknowledgement to the boy and vanished.  
  
Jareth entered through the window, to find Sarah lying on her bed. Though she now lived in this rental house, he felt very uncomfortable being back in her bedroom. The attack on Trixie still left him with the sour taste of guilt. He hadn't acted so very different from that pig. Both had been upset by a girl's comments and both had reacted with violence. His had destroyed Sarah's love for him and her innocent nature. Vince's had destroyed Trixie's head and perhaps might still destroy her life. Even if she survived, she might be afraid of men. He wondered briefly if Sarah was afraid of him.  
  
Sarah awoke, and a deep jarring sense of weirdness filled her as she noticed Jareth in her room. It was too invasive, she thought angrily. There was much she had concealed from Trixie. This wasn't the way she had thought the argument would start. Too late now, she thought as she saw that he knew. What stung her was that he was shocked. He hadn't been watching her, she realized. It was like ice water sluicing over her. Everything she had done, the revenge she had thought she was getting, and he hadn't been watching. Her mind whirled.  
  
All Jareth had to do was look in her eyes to see it. Like a rush of memories, he could see what she had become. It wasn't what he had expected. He could see that her eyes were her weapon. She used them as Cleopatra had, seducing a man from a distance. But he also saw that she had honed their cruelty. Her eyes were like daggers, rending into his soul. And as he looked into her eyes harder, he saw what he had been trying to ignore since she had said the words. It was in her. The Labyrinth was inside her. Suddenly he understood. And he realized that she didn't.  
  
She spoke suddenly, words flying out like pieces of broken glass spun out by a car tire. "You bastard! Where is she? What did you do to her?" She was still convinced that Jareth had something to do with the attack on Trixie. She had never seen Vince, not noticing him amongst all the other garbage.  
  
He looked sad. "She is . . . resting. I don't know if she will come around. But she is alive." He wished he could sound more reassuring. He should have let her wait, he thought tiredly. His body felt so heavy.  
  
"And trapped. That was your will, was it not? You attacked her, then forced me to wish her away into your lecherous grip."  
  
Jareth was annoyed at her obsession with his sex life, but let it slide. "No! I . . . she summoned me to save her. She was attacked by someone she once dated." He held up a crystal, showing her Vincent's face. Sarah didn't recognize him. "How could you have thought I attacked her?" he scolded. "I only come when summoned."  
  
"How vampiric." she snapped, ignoring his questioning look. "Did I summon you that night? When I was talking to her?" she demanded.  
  
"You said my name in a soft tone of longing." He smiled slightly, through the pain and disappointment. "Invitation enough."  
  
"I didn't need you!" His eyes narrowed. "And I suppose you have just conveniently forgotten to allow me to challenge you for her. You've trapped her there!"  
  
He sighed. "As long as the right to challenge is not waived at the time I offer it, the wisher may initiate the challenge simply by summoning me and demanding it." Sarah opened her mouth, but he gestured for silence. "But it would be advisable to wait. When Trixie is recovered enough to return to above ground, then you should challenge me."  
  
"While you try to convince her to stay, no doubt. Tell me, Jareth, if I should lose, what happens to her?"  
  
Jareth said nothing for a moment. "You won't lose, Sarah. You won before." But inside he was wondering. Even he had no idea what the Labyrinth would do. Since they were bonded, would it help her, or try to keep her. He was so distracted by that riddle; he didn't hear her next comment. "What?"  
  
She sighed in annoyance. "What about the people here who will be worried about her? They will call the police!"  
  
It was Jareth's turn to heave an annoyed sigh. Life above ground had to be such a hassle. "Well, what should we do about that?"  
  
Sarah sat down and thought about that for a moment. "I have one of her friend's numbers. I could call her. But no doubt Melinda will want to know why Jeannie didn't call herself." she murmured to herself, thinking. "Can you make me sound like her?" Jareth nodded. "Well, let's do that then." Sarah didn't sound enthusiastic, but then, she really didn't want to cooperate with him in the first place.  
  
A moment later, Sarah was talking to a very grumpy Melinda. "Jeannie, is that you? Why is the connection so bad?"  
  
"I'm calling from the airport. Sarah's sick and needs me. Can you call the college tomorrow and tell them a family emergency has come up?"  
  
"You're going to England? How? You said you were broke!" There was an angry tone to her voice that Sarah didn't understand.  
  
"Sarah's paying." she excused lamely.  
  
"Well, must be nice to have a rich friend." Mel sniffed. "Why should I lie to the college for you?"  
  
"Because I'd do it for you!" was all Sarah could think of. Jeannie called this girl a best friend? Why? She seemed very unkind. But then, Sarah rationalized, the girl thought she was talking to Jeannie. She probably had reasons for what a stranger would call rude indifference.  
  
The phrase must have been the right choice, for a moment later, Mel grudgingly agreed to tell the college. "But next time," she grumbled, "don't call at 2 am." Then she hung up.  
  
Oh. Well, 2 am. Sarah could understand that. She shrugged. But even with all that she kept from Trix, if she called, Sarah was there, no matter what time. Yet, she scolded herself, friends come in all kinds and one is not necessarily better than another.  
  
Sarah placed the phone on the hook. "There, I've just placed my closest friend completely into my enemy's hands." She sank down onto the bed. "What have I done?"  
  
Jareth was getting really sick of her distrust of him. "I would never hurt her." he insisted strongly.  
  
Sarah looked over at him, her unmanageable temper at the moment silenced by self-doubt. How can I believe that." It was not a question, and there was no time for Jareth to respond. The front door opened and a booming voice called out to her. Mechanically, she rose. "Leave!" she commanded Jareth, then took a deep breath and composed her face before running downstairs to greet her lover.  
  
Jareth didn't leave right away. In owl form he watched the whore and john using each other. But the sight of that man kissing his Sarah, of her hands pulling quickly at his shirt; it sickened him. He flew away, repulsed, disappointed and scolding himself. After all, she wasn't his. She had defied him, even in that. He swooped darkly against the moon, an anger washing over him. She was his, he screeched in owl language. Not that man's, not any man's! As he returned to it, the Labyrinth seemed to agree.  
  
"Mine!" the maze seemed to say. Jareth felt it. "Ours." he corrected. The mighty maze simply declined to reply.  
  
*********  
  
Well, there's Chapter 8. Do review, please. Or direct any flames to fieryfaerie@yahoo.com. All reactions, opinions welcome. Do tell me what you think. Or don't. See ya for Chapter 9. 


	9. Interlude

King of Dreams, Owner of None By Bunniko  
  
AN: Okay, here's the deal. My precious floppy disk with all of KODOON on it, well, it ain't working. So Chapter Nine had vanished back into the pencil sketch in my notebook. As of 1:19 am, on Monday the 19th of August, 2002 here in Japan, I officially give up trying to recover it. I've searched my boyfriend's computer (which is in Japanese) and even opened up the floppy to determine the problem. No luck. So I offer y'all this 'lil Interlude while I try to recover from the blow of having my cast removed to find out that my foot is not healed as well as begin packing to return to America. However, if you want a chapter out sooner, here's what I need. Encouragement. I'm emotionally trashed and also I want reviews. So sue me. But I don't own the Laby, etc, see previous AN's, so don't sue me. Anyway, review away either here at FF.net or at fieryfaerie@yahoo.com. All reviews appreciated, all flames laughed at unless perfectly spelled ;  
  
Interlude  
  
Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo and Ambrosius all gathered nervously around the gates to the Labyrinth. Not long after Sarah's victory, they had all moved out of the Labyrinth, afraid of King Jareth. Not that Sir Didymus was afraid, but Hoggle had impressed upon him that there would be noble deeds to be done outside the walls. Only Hoggle had sensed that there was something strange going on within the gigantic maze.  
  
"Somethin' jes woke up. And I's ain't staying around to find out what." he'd decided, long in the habit of talking to himself. He hadn't had to work overly hard to convince the rest of the ragtag band of traitors to join him. They'd allowed Sir Didymus to lead them in a five year journey across the mountainous region that separated the Labyrinth, the Goblin City and the Castle from the rest of the Underground.  
  
On the other side of those mountains was a sight definitely worth the arduous trek. Almost three months had been spent just ascending and descending the piles of rocks, avoiding the highest peaks where snow threatened or crevices that seemed to have no bottom. Looking down into a lush green valley, the first sight that met their eyes was a small village surrounded by a verdant forest. And when they had entered that forest, they had startled a small herd of pure white unicorns. Hoggle considered that a good omen, and for four and half years, they had wandered the land, meeting Elves, Dwarves, Fae of all ranks (except royalty, of course), Gnomes, Vampires, Were-creatures, every imaginable magic-imbued species and crossbreeds of all kinds. But, at the end of those happy four and a half years, disturbing rumors had reached their ears.  
  
The Labyrinth was changing itself, they said. Dark terrors and nightmares crawled its passages. It was even rebelling against Jareth! Horrified and disbelieving, the quartet set out to see with their own eyes. Another demanding three month travail across harsh mountains was required before they stood before the very gates that Sarah had once sought in vain.  
  
"What's goin' on in there?" Hoggle demanded.  
  
A Firey popped its head over the wall, ears flapping, to see who'd spoken. "Hey, wild! There's people outside!" Then the head descended, to be followed by others, all wondering about the four staring up at them in mild disgust and faint irritation.  
  
Hoggle was suddenly surprised when a voice spoke from the depths, yet at the same time seemed so close. It was a soft woman's voice, faintly familiar. "Welcome back, my children." The gates opened. "Tell me of where you have been." Trailing vines shot out and encircled the arms and legs of the valiant travelers and pulled them deep within, their cries and threats unheard by the one who called himself King. Hoggle's last conscious plea was a desperate croak, "Sarah!"  
  
At that word, the vines paused, but too late. All four were unconscious from the unceremonious trip that had involved collisions with the interior walls. The Will thought for a moment, the name Sarah inspiring a deep hunger within it. The vines grew still as purpose left them, but a moment later more gently picked up their prisoners and carried them to the Helping Hands, who, ever so helpfully, safely tucked them into the oubliette. The Will would deal with them later, when they awoke. 


	10. Chapter Nine Seeing Myself in Her Eyes

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Well, y'all are a stingy bunch. Oh well, two reviews are better than one. I'm back in the US now, and believe me I don't want to be. My brother had lifted my keyboard and replaced it with an ancient junky thing. Oh, I'm pissed. So, I've had to rewrite this chapter and barring any weirdness, this one should be the final cut of the ninth chapter. Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
Chapter Nine - Seeing Myself in Her Eyes  
  
As Phillip ran his hands over her body, Sarah closed her eyes to hide all that she was feeling. Disgust at herself, confusion, fear, pain, and something else, something deep and dark that she didn't recognize. She played her part, but somehow Phillip sensed that this was the end. As he dressed, he gazed wistfully at the spill of long dark hair over the soft violet sheets, the pale, perfect face, the slender neck, the more than generous swell of her bust, her creamy skin and had to swallow a sigh of loss. Losing her wasn't emotionally painful, just physically. He shrugged into his coat and kissed her good-bye. They spoke words of temporary parting, but both knew they would never see each other again.  
  
Sarah lounged on the bed for a moment after he had left. But a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror impelled her. She flew into the shower, wishing she could wash away five years and the guilt that came with it. But there was no soap in the world that could cleanse her soul. And she turned many years ago from the church, and ignored the twinges of God in her soul. She told herself that His forgiveness couldn't come until she could forgive herself.  
  
She needed time and solitude. A place to think, to recover, to figure out what she should do next. And she knew just the place. The indecisive brunette suddenly became a whirlwind, tossing everything she wanted into her suitcases and boxes and shoving them into the car Phillip had bought her. At least she remembered to leave him a note, in which she apologized, told him she was taking some of the clothing and jewelry and would return the car when she could. She also left him a number to call if he felt she had taken anything she shouldn't have.  
  
Sarah drove for hours. She rubbed tired eyes, not imagining that deep in his castle, Jareth was doing the same. While she was surrounded by boxes containing her past, Jareth sat among books containing the past all the way back to the fall of the Fae. She forged a path to a new life; Jareth blazed a dead-end trail to saving a life.  
  
Jareth sagged in his chair. The raging fire couldn't prevent the chill stealing over his soul. All because a wispy blonde with an incredible will had entered his realm. He couldn't explain the need he had to save her, to heal her. She was weak, tossing in dark dreams, her head outwardly healing, but inwardly suffering. Though the brain fever wasn't his worry. His physicians were handling that and they assured him that they had it under control.  
  
What worried him was a two-fold problem that could very well destroy Trixie's life when she awakened. Part of the problem was the human form. It was too frail to survive great forces of magic, even if it was meant to heal. Trixie might die, her mind might overload, or her body might mutate. She might pick up a magic ability that would only warp her soul, as it had so many human magic wielders in the past. But the bigger part stemmed from the burden of the magic, from its need for raw power, dream power. There wasn't enough coming from the above ground to allow the three to correct all the damage at once. So they had sacrificed the damage to the skull to save the brain. The swelling was indeed going down, the mind slowly healing itself in its' own way.  
  
However, her head was now deformed. The right side was flattened. From the ear to the crown, the bones now ascended in a slope instead of a gentle curve. It changed the shape of her right eye, and would no doubt prove a little tricky with the vision in that eye. Her hair, straight and fine, could not conceal the strange shape. Her skin was as pale as the papers he impatiently shuffled. How could he save her and return her to above ground like this? Having concealed the attack, how would she explain the damage? What would it do to her fragile self-esteem? How would it alter her life?  
  
He lowered his head to his hands and bemoaned again that she was an adult. If she was even only 3 years younger, he could simply shift her shape and keep her here. If she wanted to stay, she could choose her own form. If not, he could wipe her memory and choose for her. But, to keep a human adult? There was no precedent for that! She belonged up there and she deserved to have the highest quality of life, he swore angrily.  
  
Jeannie lay in a dark place. She knew she'd hit her head, because her vision was fading in and out. She pulled herself up to a standing position and found herself in a hole. There was a grating high above and through it, she could see lightning. It hurt her eyes, so she tried to focus elsewhere in the blackness. A slick wall supported her rubbery body. She looked down to see, through the faint illumination of the distant lightning, that she was dressed in a tattered gown of . . . something thin. There were dark stains on it that made her fear it was blood. What had happened to her? She racked her mind, but only ended up with a headache. A name came to her mind, a face that she latched onto. It was a child's face, pale, with deep brown, thoughtful eyes and a dark cloud of hair. The darkness rose to swallow her into a dreamless state, as her parched and pale lips murmured, "Sarah." Then the hole was gone, the face was gone and consciousness gave up to the hunger of the dark void that was slowly sapping her body's strength.  
  
Sarah pulled into the gravel driveway at 9 pm. Somewhere along the way, she ditched her normal clothes and pulled on baggy jeans and a T-shirt. In the cool evening air, she drew a flannel shirt about her thin frame as well. She lifted up the most important suitcase and staggered under its weight up to front porch. She dug the key out of her pocket, but paused to study the old house.  
  
It was her inheritance from her mother's mother. Several years ago, her entire family had washed their hands of her, even her once idolized mother. But her granmama had never known how Sarah had changed and when she had passed away, she had given this old, but comfy cottage to her willful, dreamy granddaughter. Sarah had kept it as a hideaway, her retreat from the world. Located in the country, far from England's gossip centers, she felt safe.  
  
She slipped in, finding everything dusty and dark. Sneezing, she sighed at all the work to be done. Forcing an optimism she didn't feel, she spoke out loud, "At least it will keep my hands busy." She set the heavy bag on the floor, slipped the sheet off the couch, and laid down, "Tomorrow." She was asleep in moments, her dreams of a woman made entirely of flowers living in a silver glade.  
  
Sarah's dream caught the tired Jareth's attention. "What the?" He held up a crystal, watching the energy, positive and sweet, flowing into the Underground. He drew a bit of it to himself, marveling at the sweetness of the dream in comparison to the bitterness of so many others flowing down. It wasn't enough to counteract, of course, but it was definitely a tiny taste of hope that gave him the energy to keep searching, keep holding out hope for Trix, for Sarah, for everything that mattered to him.  
  
The night passed slowly, a small part of the Labyrinth beginning to flower with sweet-scented pink flowers. And in another section, four friends were bound, gently but firmly, and sleeping off the rude knocks to their heads.  
  
*******  
  
Five days flew by as Sarah set her house in order, and began to search out a new plan for life. She spent much of the time trying to rationalize away her actions, but found that everything came back to Jareth. Her entire life hadn't proved anything, but that he was her center. She realized that she had been behaving like a child acting out against his parents. Only she had been acting out against the biggest enigma in her life. He had ruled her decisions, even without trying. What was she to do about that?  
  
More frightening to her was that, as she reread the book, she found she couldn't identify with the child she had been. She instinctively knew she couldn't go back there. She was afraid of that place. She had barely won last time; she had been so lucky, she saw now. She was certain she couldn't do that again.  
  
Then, the time she'd been anticipating and dreading came. There was a white feather on her windowsill. She picked up, twirling it in her fingers. "Jeannie . . ." she whispered, an excitement thrumming through her, as well as a dread. What news would Jareth have? She lifted the crystal, hands shaking.  
  
Jareth's face filled it, looking care-worn and tired. His eyes were not focused on her as he spoke. "She is awake."  
  
Sarah's breath whooshed out of her and her heart raced. She felt the need to scream out, but repressed it. Sarah's tongue ached to ask a million questions, but Jareth had already stepped out of view. Sarah's smile froze as Jeannie's face swam into view. Jeannie's pale face was smiling; her eyes fixed on Jareth. Sarah heard him murmur, "I'll leave you two alone, my dear." As the door closed, Jeannie's eyes turned to Sarah.  
  
"Honey! Oh Honey! How are you?" Jeannie gushed. Her eyes sparkled a deep green in the sunlight. A fading bruise marred her left cheek; a few scrapes decorated her horribly white face. Her long blond hair was carefully styled on the left to allow the right side to be easily viewed. Sarah realized with a start that she could see the veins in her friend's face. She turned her eyes away, unable to look at the face of her dearest friend.  
  
"Jeannie." she greeted softly, eyes steadfastly refusing to meet Jeannie's. She knew sooner or later her perceptive friend would see what Jareth had.  
  
"Oh, Honey." Jeannie's voice became soft. "Honey, talk to me, what's wrong? What's happened? You look so sad."  
  
That was Jeannie, Sarah thought bitterly. Why couldn't she be more selfish? Why did she always make me feel bad by putting me first? She railed mentally, her wild anger beginning to build in her. "Jean, we are 20 years old. Don't you think it's time to leave our childish nicknames behind?" Her voice was harsh, startling her best friend.  
  
"I'm sorry, Sar. I never thought . . ." Jeannie trailed off for a moment, face clouded in pain. Sarah busily stared out the window. But the moment passed and Jeannie smiled again, her mind jumping tracks quickly to avoid unpleasant thoughts. "Jareth has told me you wished me here to save my life and then you'll fight him for me. So cool! To be rescued twice by my best friend! It's almost Arthurian!"  
  
"Jeannie, do shut up!" Sarah muttered. Repenting of her harshness, she tried to begin again, "I didn't want to wish you away! I don't trust Jareth. He tells me what happened but how can I believe him? What if he hurt you himself to force me back into the Labyrinth?"  
  
"Sar . . ."  
  
"You don't know me anymore, Jeannie. I've changed. I don't think I can defeat him. Not this time. So I've just ended up trapping you there!"  
  
Jeannie began to grow frightened. "No matter what's happened, I'll always know you. You can't change that much!" she insisted.  
  
"My foolish friend." Sarah sighed, her anger near the breaking point. "I have changed!" It snapped and her voice rose, "And it's all that glittery freak's fault!" Jeannie pulled back, shocked at her mild friend's temper.  
  
"Sarah," she pleaded, "calm down, please. You can talk to me. You can always talk to me! There's nothing you can say . . . "  
  
"Shut up!" Sarah shouted, not noticing Jeannie's eyes flash for a moment. Jeannie's mouth shut with a snap. She could still feel Jeannie's eyes on her and it was unbearable. She turned back, but focused her eyes above the crystal. "I'm not fighting him for you." She spoke firmly. "I won't. I . . ." she wavered, then bowed her head in defeat, "I can't go back there. Not like this."  
  
Jeannie's fear of abandonment, always high, triggered a wave of panic. Just as it threatened to overwhelm her, it was swept away by Sarah's soft whimper. "What do you mean 'like this'?" she queried, her voice revealing her worry. "Are you injured? Unhealthy?"  
  
"Oh, Jeannie!" Sarah flung herself away from the crystal. "Can't you be mad at me? Why do you always have to be so damn nice?"  
  
Jeannie frowned, seriously considering the question, to Sarah's annoyance and disbelief. "But I'm not nice. I've been told lots of times, even by you, that I'm childish, selfish, distracted . . . You should hear Melinda yell because I watch TV while we talk on the phone, or Debbie scold because I never call her first. My ex-boyfriends have even called me spoiled, ditzy and flighty. And that was before we broke up!" She tried to laugh, but Sarah's eyes stopped the sound in her throat. Jareth's words floated back to her.  
  
"Here's Sarah, my dear. Don't let her upset you too much."  
  
Jeannie narrowed her eyes speculatively, unaware Sarah was watching. Jareth knew something, the bed-confined girl knew, and she was determined to find out what.  
  
Sarah watched her with trepidation. She knew that look. That look had prompted the nickname of Trixie in the first place. And she knew that Jeannie always learned what she wanted to know, maybe not with subtlety and finesse, but she got the information nonetheless.  
  
Jeannie suddenly smiled too sweetly, "Sorry, hun, but it's time for dinner. Mustn't keep the King waiting. I'll call you back and we can talk over this a little more calmly." The crystal went dark before Sarah's stunned face. Dinner? The King? They eat dinner together? Oh the rouge! 


	11. Chapter Ten The Shadow Knows Too Muc...

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Thanks Cyber Keiko-sama for being an awesome Beta reader!! If anyone wants to dialog about my story or has questions or comments they'd like answered, please feel free to email me at fieryfaerie@yahoo.com I am working on this story in my spare time, which means around settling back into life in the US. I see much more to be revealed in this story and hope y'all enjoy it enough to stick around. Anywho, another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie. Also, Kiori is my creation, but I'm lifting her out of another Labyrinth story I wrote, The Elemental. That one is much darker, and I've changed a few things, so to anyone who wanted more of Elemental's Kiori - I'm still working on that sequel. Sorry!!  
  
Chapter Ten - The Shadow Knows . . . Too Much  
  
Over the years, Sarah had gotten into the habit of talking to herself. At first, it had been due to the suspicion, recently disproved, that Jareth was always watching. But, and she swore it was not paranoia, she was becoming more and more convinced that she was not alone. As she paced through her grandmother's house, she muttered to herself. Several things were bothering her.  
  
The first was a nagging sense of guilt. No matter how many arguments she pulled up to justify why she couldn't go back to that.that place, she couldn't shake the vision of Jeannie's eyes when she had said she wouldn't rescue her. Her distrust of Jareth ran so deep that she wasn't sure what she had left Jeannie to. She climbed the steps noisily as she ascended into the attic.  
  
She swiped uselessly at the cobwebs and dust as she presented her argument against her second problem. "The King? Dinner? Jeannie's too smart to fall for his Sparkly Tights. What is that wanna-be rock star up to?" Her voice rose and fell in cadence with each swipe of the grimy rag over the grimier window. She tried to catch a glimpse of the lake, but it was futile. Tossing the rag down, she whirled to retrieve the forgotten bottle of glass cleaner from the living room.  
  
A small figure barely ducked back into the grimy shadows in time. A faint sigh emanated from behind the boxes labeled 'Props'. Sarah's grandmother had been a dreamy little old lady who had followed her daughter's career with not a little vicariousness. Her own amateur acting had been ended a long time ago, at the hands of a brutal husband who had broken her jaw, resulting in a permanent speech disability. In various boxes and trunks were squirreled away tokens and trinkets from her only daughter's stage career. Sarah tossed an uneasy glance at the Props box, certain she had seen a strange shape only a moment ago. As she left the attic, she tried to shake off her third uneasy feeling. For two or three years now, she had been aware that the shadows seemed to conceal something. But she couldn't identify who, what or why. She knew better than to speak of it, especially as she wasn't certain it meant her harm.  
  
The warm sunlight shining through the freshly cleaned, if slightly streaky, living room windows did much to lighten her mood. Still, as she returned to the attic weighed down with glass cleaner and fresh rags, she took her CD player with her. Music always alleviated her suspicions and unease.  
  
***  
  
In Texas, four girls gathered for lunch. They were discussing a few oddities, like Jeannie's sudden departure and Vincent's odd disappearance.  
  
Melinda was talking, gesturing with her salad fork. "She called me at 2 am, the day after Halloween. 2 AM! And tells me she's got to go to England 'cause Sarah's sick."  
  
Debbie interrupted. "I'd like to meet this Sarah. Jeannie talks about her acting talent, their childhood antics, everything! So much, it's like she's not real!"  
  
"Or superhuman." Solei interjected, looking up from her notebook, in which she was jotting notes for her latest musical piece.  
  
Rikki sipped her Diet soda and mused. "It's not like her not to call. She's been gone almost a week." She sighed worriedly. "I miss her."  
  
Mel made a sarcastic face, "What? You mean you don't appreciate the silence?" The four laughed good-naturedly. The moment passed, and Mel changed topics. "Have any of you seen Vincent lately? He's in two of my classes, but he hasn't been in all week." She frowned darkly, feeling a deep dislike for the man who had upset her friend.  
  
"I couldn't believe he had the balls to show up at our party!" Solei inveighed. "And who slipped up and told him what her costume was? Of all the pathetic . . ."  
  
"I thought it was sweet, if it had been anyone else." Rikki interjected.  
  
"Sweet? It made him look like a stalker." Debbie snatched a french fry off Rikki's plate.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Sorry." She grinned unapologetically as Rikki threatened to dump her soda in Debbie's lap.  
  
Mel shook her head, and then murmured, "Jeannie's eyes haven't shone the same way in a while. Not since she found out Vincent only wanted her body." She tilted her head, seeking an explanation.  
  
Solei contributed it. "It's her self-esteem. She's so jumpy around men, so distrusting."  
  
"Do you blame her? The way her father, her brothers abused her? The stories she told me about Sarah's grandfather?" Three heads turned to Rikki. "Jeannie told me that Sarah's grandfather died when they were 8. It seemed like his death released a lock on her soul and for months, Sarah's grandmother told anyone who would listen about what she had suffered in her marriage. Jeannie said it made Sarah jumpy around men, made her suspicious."  
  
Debbie murmured, "Maybe it made Jeannie that way too."  
  
Solei shook her head, "I think what it did, what all those things did, was make Jeannie cautious. She would try to figure someone out before she trusted them. And I think when she makes a mistake, it really bothers her."  
  
"Maybe," Mel agreed, "but I also think a part of her was scared."  
  
"Of Vincent?" Debbie sounded incredulous. "He's . . . he's . . ." she trailed off as she glanced out the window. "I wonder." Debbie was suddenly feeling a bit left out. The other three still lived in town with Jeannie, while she had driven in special for this get-together. But if some creep was bothering her best friend . . .  
  
Mel sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's so different from high school, Debbie. Back then, one of us was always around her. We told each other everything. It's no wonder she flew off to help Sarah just like that. For ten years, they've been so close, even though so far apart. She'll let us now when she's back. And this is Jeannie after all. No matter what else, she's a fighter."  
  
Debbie nodded, knowing how Mel felt. The three of them had gone through all four years of high school together. That they had grown apart was sad, but they were still close, still there for each other. All five of them always would be. But still, Sarah was like a shadowy sixth. All four at lunch would give a lot to meet this girl.  
  
"I wonder what she's like." Rikki murmured.  
  
***  
  
Sarah's attic finally shone. She'd dragged all her grandmother's boxes into one section of the attic and lugged up some of her own things as well. She'd made a small shrine of sorts out of the section next to the window. The vanity, a piece of furniture she'd always seemed to need, was set against the wall. On its surface were a crystal ball and a red-leather book.  
  
Sarah herself was curled up on her bed, a spare sheet tossed over it so that her filthy clothes and body didn't stain the bedcovers. She'd worked herself to a near-comatose state of exhaustion, finally silencing the nagging voices in her mind. Her eyes were staring sightlessly out her window, watching the wind dancing in the trees. In the shadows behind her, the figure detached itself from its cozy corner and approached the bed.  
  
The figure watched the girl for her mistress. Her mistress had many spies and was powerful. Her master had once been powerful too, she mused. But this little girl had broken him. Now her mistress sought to control that threat. At least, Kiori mused, she assumed the girl was a threat.  
  
Kiori stood for the first time in 5 years in the light. It was reckless, she knew, but the Will was propelling her forward. She'd originally been sent here by her master. Little did he know just how much she'd grown to hate him. When the Will had become powerful enough, Kiori had defected without a qualm.  
  
It was true that centuries ago, Jareth had rescued her. For that, she supposed she owed him loyalty. But, after passing a pleasant few years as his lover before eventually being put aside, she had chosen her Underworld form. For a very long time, she'd been a faithful faery, one with fire talents and a keen mind. Good at deceiving those who challenged the Labyrinth, she had garnered high praise. But the Labyrinth was a treacherous place, not fully controlled by the King, whether he knew that or not. A misstep had placed her in an oubliette of far nastier propensity than the one Sarah had found. She'd slowly gone mad, her face scarred, her wings torn. In silence and pain, she had waited for her King and former lover to find her.  
  
Oh, he'd rescued her in the end, but his inability to locate her for so long had made her realize just how tenuous his position was. He was so self-satisfied, so secure in his throne that he didn't know there were powers at work against him. His defeat at the hands of a little girl was hardly reassuring.  
  
The Will had been whispering in her mind since his defeat. Instead of watching the girl, as Jareth had instructed, she took advantage of her position. She whispered to the girl as she slept, whispered dark things that cast Jareth in a very questionable light. She encouraged in the girl's subconscious a distrust of Jareth and a fear of the Labyrinth. But after all her hard work for four years, the Will now seemed interested in a different tack. Or perhaps it had been there all along. The Will wanted a body, an avatar. And it had chosen Sarah Williams. 


	12. Chapter Eleven Falling Down

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Feel free to email me at fieryfaerie@yahoo.com This one's a good bit longer, so I hope y'all enjoy. And again loads of thanks to my reviewers and especially to my busy beta-reader, Keiko-sama. Thanks for making time and being a part of KoD!!! Another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So yet again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei, Kiori and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
Chapter Eleven - Falling Down  
  
Several days had passed since her conversation with Sarah, which had taken such a strange twist. Though she had said she would call Sarah back, she found she couldn't. Just looking at the crystal filled her with a nameless fear. She'd seen something in Sarah's eyes, something she couldn't quite pin down. But, she nibbled her lip as she thought, Sarah had definitely not wanted to look at her. Was Sarah upset with her? It was clear she had a deep distrust of Jareth; one that Jeannie wasn't quite sure was justified by their awful confrontation five years ago. Everything she had learned about Jareth so far told her that he was a sensitive and caring man, even if he did have very 80's-ish fashion sense.  
  
Well, she mused, looking down at the gown her maid had helped her into, perhaps his fashion sense wasn't exactly 80's. She smoothed one hand almost reverently over the gown's velvet skirt. It was very old-fashioned, centuries behind what was popular above ground. She laughed a little at herself. Now she was talking like him, too. This place definitely did things to one's mind. She wondered how she looked, certain she looked very out of place and turned towards the mirror.  
  
And did a double take, for about the twentieth time since she'd awakened. She sighed, wondering if she'd ever get used to the mirror's refusal to show her face. She could see how the dress accentuated her waist and bust, how the color set off her skin perfectly. She could see some of her hair, piled up in tiny ringlets. But her face was fuzzed, much like on those shows where they protected the identities of people who were innocent until proven guilty. She frowned in frustration. She'd asked Jareth about it, of course. He'd merely laughed, warning her that in the Underground, everything had a mind of its own.  
  
She was still chewing on that answer as well. Did everything have a mind? Turning, she could see the Labyrinth, well, a section of the Labyrinth, from her window. She remembered the conversations she had with Sarah about running the Labyrinth. They'd both figured Jareth had creatures that controlled everything, like the goblins that ran the Cleaners. But if the Labyrinth itself chose its form . . . She smiled thoughtfully. Jareth had told her that when she was up to it, she could have free rein of his library. She knew just what she wanted to read about. Maybe if she could find some answers to the mysteriousness of the Labyrinth, she could call Sarah and reassure her. Maybe, well, cheat a little, give Sarah an edge. Hopefully that would motivate her reluctant friend to face this place again.  
  
As she waited for her escort to come, she wondered for the millionth time if it was the Labyrinth Sarah was afraid of or its King. Bitsy, her maid, suddenly interrupted her musings.  
  
"All ready, are we?" she smiled in a bright manner, and for a brief moment, Jeannie wondered just what the perpetually happy Fae woman was so happy about. She shrugged it and her increasingly morbid emotions away as she rose to follow the neither young nor old maidservant to the dining room.  
  
***  
  
Jareth was holed up in his library, poring over yet another medical tome. He spent long hours every day researching, seeking out any advice, anything he could do for the young girl. But it seemed that magic had been little researched when it came to healing humans. Then again, given the history of Fae-Human relations, that shouldn't come as a surprise, he reminded himself archly. Leaning back in his armchair, he rubbed his tired, watery eyes and let his thoughts wander back to the girl.  
  
It had been nearly a week since she'd summoned him when she'd finally awakened. Now that she was recovering, he was disappointed that her body was not healing itself as efficiently as it should. He was very concerned, because although she had healed herself of her many scrapes and bruises, her color was still very bad.  
  
He was puzzled a great deal by her coloring. A few days ago, she had confessed to him that she couldn't see her reflection. He had reassured her that she looked lovely, without revealing that he had enchanted the mirrors to do so. He knew how fragile her self-esteem was. He had not needed to watch over her, though he had checked in on her periodically, an odd tingling of his sixth sense telling him when she was in danger. And that girl, he groaned mentally, seemed to live for danger.  
  
With her friends, she did crazy things. With Melinda, they had gotten quite lost at night in an unknown neighborhood where they had been distributing flyers for a church friend of Melinda's. The friend had failed to locate them and left, assuming they had been picked up by their parents. But Jeannie, terrible at directions, had remained calm, thereby calming Mel down long enough for her to recall where the library was. It was amazing that no one had preyed on the two young teens, though he'd watched over them, ready to protect them if Jeannie called on him. With Debbie, they'd experienced a wild car accident. Debbie lost control of her car after hitting something in the road and they'd done a complete 360 degree spin out on a hilltop road. Jeannie, after they'd assessed the damage to the car, had laughingly asked if they could do it again. She wandered through woods alone or with friends, taking little risks that in the course of the day could add up to big mistakes in the Texas wilderness. And yet, it took a guy who couldn't accept rejection to actually threaten her life.  
  
It amazed him that she had lived to twenty years old without more serious incidents. The stubborn little blonde had suffered no broken bones, no stitches, no snakebites or life threatening wounds whatsoever. She breezed through one silly stunt after another, a charmed life until her twentieth Halloween. A night that she knew brought out the weirdos and heightened the limited amount of magic left above ground. Not for the first time, he wanted to shake her and demand what she had been thinking that night! But that alabaster white face kept him from doing more than speaking to her in a gentle manner.  
  
He knew she'd grown up to be a pretty young woman. Her body was curvy, her face more easily seen now that she'd chucked her glasses for contacts, her friendly smile free of those horrid braces. She was energetic and happy, friendly and had an easy smile and loved to laugh. She was a cute, pert, little college girl. Maybe she wasn't beautiful, but several of her friends had called her personality gorgeous, which she treasured more than her memories of being in 'Hamlet' or her dream of being a published writer.  
  
But there was ugliness about her now. Her assault had marked her clearly. Her face was pale, her veins visible beneath the thin skin. Jareth had tried doing her make up, in a desperate attempt to conceal the whiteness, but the effect had been horrible. It had been worse than when someone paints vibrant colors on plaster of paris statuettes. He'd forbidden her make up and given standing orders to her maid that her hair was to be done carefully on the right side, so that it blocked her curious hands and so that if her hair were reflected, it would leave no hint that her head was misshapen.  
  
He sighed in frustration, slamming the book shut. He'd saved her brain, but there had been nothing they could do about her skull. He would need a doctor skilled in treating humans, and where was he to get one of those? The shape of her head was merely aesthetic, one of the physicians had dismissed. "She should be grateful to be alive." he had sniffed in a superior manner. Clearly the physician had not enjoyed the saving of a human woman, one who obviously was not going to be able to join the Underground in the normal fashion. And that was another of Jareth's concerns. When was she going to be well enough for Sarah to challenge him for her so that he could get her out of here before something bad happened to her?  
  
The soft tolling of his desktop clock, indicating the dinner hour had arrived, interrupted his thoughts. Time to stop hiding in the library and face his guest. He raked a hand through his hair perfunctorily as he headed toward the dining hall, one of Bitsy's ideas. He was going to have to have a word with that Fae.  
  
***  
  
Jareth was waiting when Jeannie made her entrance, his eyes staring morosely into the fire. To Bitsy's disappointment, he didn't look at Jeannie as if he'd missed her company, nor did Jeannie get adorably self- concious or shy. What did impress Jareth was the very comfortable way she moved about his castle and interacted with him. She didn't seem to feel any need for formality or uncertainty. Bitsy excused herself, heading into the kitchen.  
  
Jeannie spoke, "Good evening, Your Majesty. I'm glad Bitsy thought I was ready to leave my room. Your castle is really interesting." She smiled at the surprised look on his face, but hid it behind a sip of water.  
  
"Interesting? I wonder what Sarah would say to that." he murmured.  
  
"Sarah was the only one to make it here, right?" Jareth merely nodded, glancing around at the dining room as if searching for what she considered interesting. "But then to her, castles are hardly unusual. We don't have castles in Texas, although my family and I did visit some while we were in Germany and England. Still, I was so young then, I hardly remember them. And I'm sure they didn't have nearly as many interesting people in them." Jareth looked up at her in astonishment.  
  
"You don't find them freakish or scary?"  
  
"Me? I've read about the wars between Fae and Humans in your book and I know more than a little about human nature. But surely you don't think they would shock me? I dreamed of one day having my own unicorn or swimming with mermaids. I devoured every fairy tale and myth I could find. I love high adventure and fantastic things. Above ground, my bookshelves are lined with science fiction and fantasy. Surely you don't think a little goblin chasing a chicken is going to make me faint." she reproved with a smile. "There are so many things to learn and see here! I do hope I get a chance to explore a bit."  
  
Jareth sat back in his chair, silent as the first course arrived. When Bitsy slipped out again, he began to speak. "Jeannie, to tell the truth, your coming here is a bit of a" he paused, searching for the right word, "problem. You see, Fae life spans are very long, far longer than humans. There are many here who remember the war and well, since humans rarely come here and never stay . . . as humans, anyway . . . there are many nervous folk who I doubt would want to see you wandering about here. I'm afraid you will have to stay inside the castle, where it is safe." He mentally smacked himself, not having meant to tack on that last phrase. He must be more tired than he had realized.  
  
"Safe? What's there that the King can't protect me from?"  
  
Jareth sighed, reluctant to speak of his growing unease and yet somehow feeling he could talk to this slip of a girl. Finally, he spoke, needing to confide in someone. "It's the Labyrinth. It, well, it is changing. Perhaps, in my depression, I overlooked something or got lax. But it's like a mistreated dog. It turns on me when I enter it, instead of opening itself up to me. I should be able to walk through it as I wish, either quickly to get to the towns on the other side of the hills or to just wander through it in safety. Instead, it tries to trap me, to do me harm. Whatever malevolence it harbors isn't strong enough to hurt me yet, but I fear it has already harmed others."  
  
"Like whom?"  
  
"A few days ago, Hoggle and his friends returned from their self-imposed exile." He permitted himself a sharp laugh. "They thought they should hide from me, that I might be angry with them. As if anyone could hide from me here." He commented arrogantly, unaware of how wrong he was. "But when they entered the Labyrinth, they vanished. One of my goblins reported seeing a pack of Fireys talking about seeing them on the other side of the front gate. Fireys aren't supposed to be anywhere near there. I summoned one of them, and underneath his sass, I learned that they feel as if they are" again he paused, thinking, "almost as if they are part of a rebellion against me."  
  
Jeannie was stunned. The Labyrinth? Rebelling? "Is there someone who could be leading this?"  
  
Jareth shook his head. "None that I know of. The Labyrinth has been there since I created the spell that allowed humans to wish their children to me. It formed out of the same magic. I didn't understand why, but I soon realized it was there to allow the wishers a challenge, a way to undo their foolish words." He smirked, "Although it took the humans so much longer to figure out that they could challenge me."  
  
Jeannie suddenly felt uncomfortable, remembering what she had read in the book he'd given her. She fiddled with her napkin, but since bold was her usual style, she found herself blurting out what she was thinking. "Jareth, do you hate all of us humans?" She could have kicked herself for the severe track change in the conversation, but, well, it was one of the things she was known for.  
  
Jareth was silent for a very, very long time. Jeannie seriously regretted saying anything, and found her small appetite completely vanished. She aimlessly pushed her food around on her plate, desperately trying to think up a way to get out of this mess. When he finally spoke, she dropped her fork with a clatter, then turned beet red. "No, I don't hate all humans. I just . . ."  
  
"Feel superior to them?" Oh, she could have bitten her tongue off after that tumbled out!  
  
Jareth stared at her oddly. "You and Sarah seem to have that in common." he grumbled.  
  
"What?" she queried, half-afraid he was furious with her.  
  
"Both of you seem to have uncontrollable mouths. Do either of you think before you speak?"  
  
Jeannie paused to think about that. "No, well, at least I don't think I do. Except around kids, or my mom. Well, I usually do at church."  
  
Jareth laughed, but it sounded a bit forced. "So I guess shooting you mouth off seems like a good idea to you? Even when someone is attacking you?"  
  
Jeannie honestly wasn't even aware of his deliberate changing of the subject. "What do you mean?" She considered a moment, then colored. "You're talking about what I said to Vincent." Jareth nodded tightly. "Well, what should I have done? Begged?" She sneered the last word, her pride showing through. "No thanks. I intend to go out fighting."  
  
"You almost did." Jareth reminded her softly.  
  
She gave him a cocky smile. "Don't let my size fool you, Jareth. I fought with my brothers and I will fight with anyone that tries to mess with me or mine. Guess I'm just a true Texan." She grinned devilishly and Jareth couldn't help smiling back, though he didn't quite understand her comment about being a Texan.  
  
"I'm just glad you had the presence of mind to call on me." Jareth took a sip of wine and mentally congratulated himself on saving her life.  
  
"I don't think I would have, honestly, if it hadn't been Halloween. Somehow, Halloween makes me think of you, even though I didn't want to."  
  
"Is it so bad, then, to think of me?" Jareth sounded insulted.  
  
"No." She hurried to reassure him. "It's just that Sarah and I have this agreement. We don't talk about you." She was silent for a long moment. "I don't really know why, but she . . ." Jeannie trailed off into silence, feeling like it wasn't her place to talk about Sarah.  
  
Jareth probed. "She what? What does Sarah have to say about me?" He tried to sound nonchalant, like it didn't matter. But his heart had begun thumping erratically and his mind was hoping against all reason that she missed him.  
  
"She hates you."  
  
The whisper cut through him, confirming what he had tried to deny, despite her behaviors towards him. His eyes closed and his aquiline nose narrowed, even whitened as he tried to shut out the pain that accompanied those words. But, since that night when his temper snapped in Sarah's room, he'd found that pain often jump-started his temper. He clenched his fist, his face now flushing with the rage he was beginning to find uncheck-able.  
  
Jeannie reacted to his pain with self-castigation, knowing he was hurting, but not daring to look up. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." But her apology was cut short, as Jareth's emotions broke free from the cage he'd locked them in. A bolt of energy seared past her left ear and burnt a hole in the tapestry behind her. An approaching goblin suddenly blinked out of sight, appearing over the Bog a second later. She looked up, but what she saw in his face terrified her. Sheer panic welled up within the girl, especially as another energy bolt barely missed her. Like one of the horses she'd once worked with, she bolted.  
  
***  
  
Jeannie ran, blinded by the panic that the magical temper tantrum had triggered. She didn't know what motivated her, why she was so frightened. But a haze in her mind kept her from thinking about anything. All she knew was something in her mind was screaming, "Run!" If she could have just stopped a second to think, she would wonder what had caused her to run. More importantly, she would wonder where she was running. But by the time the haze cleared, she was out the door, through the town and entering the very Labyrinth Jareth had warned her to stay away from. She collapsed, worn out from the run, a stitch in her side preventing her from breathing properly. She lay on the pavement, gasping for breath and very confused.  
  
When she could breathe again, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. And once the haze cleared, she realized why she had run. Jareth's face had suddenly looked like her father's had before he beat the crap out of her for forgetting to clean her room or making the wrong move in chess. She felt tears forming as she tried to fight back what she had been really running from. She was running from the memories, not so much of the beatings, but of the words that went with it. Even after all this time, the memory of those demeaning words could still undermine all of her confidence, all of her self-esteem.  
  
But, now that she had the answer, she could fight back that demon. She ignored her surroundings, ignored everything but the harsh words. Using every ounce of logic and positive thinking she possessed, she corralled her hurtful memories and struggled to push them back where they belonged. And when she finally did that, she felt strong enough to fight off a lion.  
  
Meanwhile, the Labyrinth had been choosing the perfect torture for its new guest. The landscape around the kneeling girl changed several times, until it finally stopped. She still knelt on stone paving, but behind her a fountain merrily tinkled. All about her were stone walls, enclosing her, one of which was covered with vines. The walls reached very high, blocking off any view of the castle. Jeannie looked around, bemused.  
  
The water called her and she struggled up, the full skirt of the gown causing her some problems. Finally, she wrestled the difficult fabric into place and crossed to the fountain. She glanced into the clear water, her hands already forming a scoop. But she froze, her face clearly reflected in the pool. As the vines behind her began to take on a human face and lean closer, as if to watch, Jeannie's mouth worked soundlessly, shock filling her. And then she screamed. Her soul-shattering scream echoed over the Labyrinth, filling the ears of everything in it and finally, faintly, reaching the ears of Jareth, who had only just begun to search for her.  
  
The vine-woman reached out a tendril toward the screaming woman, covering her mouth to stop the horrid sound. Jeannie jerked away, spinning about before the vine-woman could retreat. The two faces were still, considering each other for a moment. "Sarah?" she queried, staring at a version of her friend's face made out of vines and blossoms. The vine-creature frowned, then seemed to want to reply. But an owl's cry turned both heads up.  
  
As Jareth flew towards the source of the scream, the vine-woman lashed out, sending Jeannie tumbling backwards into the fountain. Jareth closed in, Fae form taking shape quickly, pulling the flailing girl from the water. But the vine-woman had vanished, her attack on Jeannie buying her enough time to hide from Jareth and his fear and concern for the girl over-riding any attention he might have been paying to her anomalous surge of power.  
  
She watched through the lichen's eyes as Jareth carefully checked the girl's pulse, while Jeannie tried to speak, but fainted as Jareth proceeded to blast a hole in the walls when they refused to allow him passage. She allowed him to think the Labyrinth subdued for the moment, giving him easy passage back to his castle while she thought about what she had learned. Jareth had a weak spot for that little human. The little human knew Sarah. And she had nightmares trapped in her mind that would give her more energy to feed on. With all that she had just learned, there was no way Sarah Williams would escape her. She would have to come. And with all the hate Kiori had planted in her soul, Sarah would be more than willing to help destroy the Goblin King. If the Will had possessed a body all her own, she would have rubbed her hands together in dark glee. 


	13. Chapter Twelve A Dreamer's Wish

King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Sorry for the long wait. My beta reader's life got really hectic, so . . . this is the unbetaed version. Will replace with the beta-d version when she gets a chance. But I felt I was probably going to lose my few readers if I didn't put something up, heh. I love those of you who review, and if you don't review, well, thanks for reading too! Feel free to email me at fieryfaerie@yahoo.com This one's a good bit longer, so I hope y'all enjoy. Another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So yet again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei, Kiori and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
AN 2: caught a few errors after reviewing the story in prep for next chapter, so I've fixed em  
  
AN 3: Yup, I am this lazy hehe. Hey, do you want the next chapter or not? Anyway, just to let those that worry, my beta-reader is BACK and this chapter is now typo-free and grammatically improved. No such guarantee on the Author's notes *giggle*  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
Chapter Twelve - A Dreamer's Wish  
  
Bitsy was all Fae, born and bred right here in the Underground. She had no first-hand knowledge of life before the rise of the Humans, and therefore, no bias against Humans. Which was the main reason Jareth had always chosen her as lady's maid to his mistresses and was especially why he had chosen her to tend to Jeannie. Unlike several of the Fae clustered in the close- lying villages, Bitsy would be fiercely loyal to her charge. Jeannie's weakness would bring Bitsy even deeper into her corner, instead of trying to figure out how to exploit it. Not to say that the other Fae were conniving, heartless people. They aren't, but when you are driven out of your homeland, your women and children are slaughtered, your brothers and fathers marched off to war never to return, and then you are ultimately banished to a realm half dependent on the same Humans that took everything from you, it's safe to say you'll become a little bitter and suspicious.  
  
Jareth knew that in the hearts and minds of many of his Fae subjects, fear of Humans and their greed was still strong. It was one of the reasons he couldn't allow his rescued children to remain Human, unless they never left his castle. His mistresses all ultimately came to resent him for what they viewed as their captivity. The only exception to that was Kiori, who, having been half-Fae, had been freer than any of his Human mistresses. Still, he had changed her form when he had rescued her from Earth, from the nightmare life she had been enduring. He had erased her memories of that miserable existence; erasing the abuse at the hands of the man she had thought her father as well as the final eradicator of the Fae.  
  
The Fae and Humans that had managed to unite had held a last bastion in the British Isles until the coming of the Romans. The Fae community was very small, with Humans who followed their practices outnumbering them three to one. The Fae were the highest in authority and in religion, therefore they were the first cut down as the Romans sought to establish their own authority. Kiori, born to a Human mother chosen by a Fae priest as wife, was fortunate in that her father had been long gone when the Roman force decided to settle down and breed the natives out. Her mother was claimed by a Roman brute, tough but not bright. Kiori's mother convinced him that Kiori was his, though born only 5 and ½ months after their forced marriage. He was brutal everywhere, from the battlefield to the bedroom. Her mother endured the violence for only fourteen years. Then, the warrior's hate and lust turned to his daughter. Kiori only survived a year. Body beaten and battered, death had been creeping up on her. But Jareth had intervened, snatching her from the brink of death and the hell on Earth that she had somehow endured for so long.  
  
Jareth was thinking about all of this, in a very disorganized flash, because of the conversation he was having with a shivering, drenched, defensive blonde sitting across from him in front of a fire. He had brought her in, scattering his goblins with shouts for Bitsy and a warm fire and towels. She'd regained consciousness as he'd carried her up the steps to his castle, coughing up water harshly. Then he'd let Bitsy fuss over her until his patience wore out.  
  
"Bitsy. Leave us." Jareth's voice was calm, but very cold and Bitsy backed away quickly, murmuring something about fixing up a toddy. Jeannie's eyes were focused on the flames, her body rigid. Jareth knew instinctively that it wasn't him she was worried about. He softened his tone, leaning forward in his chair, trying to catch her eyes. "Jeannie, what happened?"  
  
Her eyes reflected the flames. "What happened?" she murmured. "What always happens. A man gets angry, and I get wary. A man yells, I jump and start checking for exits. His fist comes up, I flinch." She sighed. "When my dad hit, I couldn't run. I was tiny, too young to really understand that I didn't deserve what I was getting. When the older of my two younger brothers started hitting, I ran away. When the younger one started, I was older. He was still bigger and stronger than me, but I fought back anyway, because I thought I had a chance." A sardonic amusement entered her eyes and she turned to look at Jareth. "But how does one fight back against magic balls of fire zooming past one's head?"  
  
Despite the shadows still in her eyes and the remaining tension in her body, Jareth allowed himself a tight smile. But inside, he couldn't imagine how children on Earth lived. How could they endure all the hate and rage that the adults took out on them? He sighed. "Jeannie, you can't go out there again."  
  
"There's something out there, Jareth. There's a . . . a force out there."  
  
His eyes became familiarly mocking. "A force?"  
  
"Yes, when I looked into the water and saw myself, I screamed out in horror. A vine reached out and when I turned around, there was a woman made out of vines and . . ."  
  
"Jeannie, the Labyrinth sensed you as a challenger and was simply trying to keep you from getting back out. It's not a place for you. It's designed to confuse."  
  
Jeannie stared at that smug face and knew why Sarah always seemed to want to deck this guy. She frowned darkly at him, suddenly feeling patronized and belittled. Was it because she was human or female? Or both? But she decided to tackle a different subject. "Jareth, why didn't you tell me about my head?" Now it was Jareth's turn to fidget.  
  
***  
  
Bitsy hadn't actually gone any further than the door. She'd been there the night Jeannie had been brought in. Jareth had brought her in right away, installing her in her old position as lady's maid, even though the girl was surrounded by doctors. She busied herself with getting the young girl's room ready. Jareth, or one of the doctors, had cast aside the girl's blood- stained costume and Bitsy had gathered it up. With her own magic, she removed the blood-stains and repaired the rents, restoring the three thin gowns to new condition. As she hung it up, layered properly, she thought it a very fine gown for the young princess. She used magic to place the crown on a shelf above the gown and simply assumed it was real gold. In her mind, she was convinced this young girl was a Human princess. She knew nothing of Halloween, and even if she had, she would not have understood it.  
  
Bitsy knew pieces of information about this mortal girl that had defeated her King. The deep loyalty she felt toward Jareth caused a deep dislike for that young woman in her heart. She had long wished for Jareth to marry, and in her foolish romantic heart, she had decided this Human princess was perfect. Both blond, both willowy, ah, the children they would have, she thought dreamily. She longed to hear the pitter-patter of little Fae feet in the castle, for laughter and love to lighten her King's heart and soul. She'd seen them interacting: Jeannie's face animated as she told him some story about her life above ground; Jareth never looking bored or mocking. She was certain romance was budding. And she was determined to do everything she could to foster it. She made certain Jeannie bathed in floral-scented water. Jeannie had confessed to her that her favorite flowers were blood-red roses and pure white calla lilies. So, Bitsy bathed her in rose-scented bubble baths and scented her hair with the faint trace of calla lily essence. She chose perfect gowns to set off the slight tan of her shoulders or the green of her eyes or the gold in her hair. She plotted ways to get the two together, like the formal dinner she had arranged. And she was not displeased that, although angry sparks had flown, Jareth had rushed after her.  
  
But now, Bitsy frowned in annoyance, now when she should be basking in the romantic light of the fire and praising Jareth for rescuing her, the girl was being defiant and independent. And Jareth, drat him, was being downright mean, mocking her and patronizing her instead of wooing her or speaking gently. Bitsy resisted the urge to stamp her foot petulantly. Why was Jareth so darn stubborn? Worse, why was it that he was never gentle and courteous? Bitsy dismissed all the previous restraint Jareth had shown with Jeannie. All his fine civility was dashed by his haughty demeanor at the moment when, in Bitsy's eyes, a romance should be gelling.  
  
But Bitsy was stubborn and not one to admit defeat. After all, no one had challenged Jareth for her, so he must be keeping her. And there was only one way to keep her, since she was an adult. Bitsy just had to make sure that it happened some time before she died!  
  
***  
  
Oblivious to Bitsy's frustrated matchmaking, Jeannie was contemplating her future. Factors she hadn't been able to see were now changing her understanding of things. For the most part, understanding Sarah. Yet, she knew clearly, that there was something going on in the Labyrinth, something going on with Sarah, that neither of them were fully aware of. "So you didn't tell me to protect me?" she finally murmured. Jareth nodded, not expecting what was coming next. Jeannie rose to her feet, her warm blanket pulled about her like a cloak. "I am not a helpless little female who needs to be protected, Jareth." she gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "I could have survived the truth and I would have preferred the truth."  
  
Jareth rose as well, striking his own pose of nonchalant authority. "I was trying to keep you from pain, my dear." He swept her a mocking bow, "But if you would prefer to suffer, tell Sarah to come for you now, that you might see just what awaits you in your world." He pinned her with his eyes. "Do not forget that by saving your life, I prevented Vincent's crime being discovered. How do you plan to explain your deformity, your paleness? Or would you expect me to turn back time as I did for Sarah?"  
  
Jeannie didn't have answers, but she refused to be intimidated. "No, Jareth. I don't expect anything from you. In fact, I feel I have already allowed you to do too much. If you want me to stay within these walls, then I ask a position here of you. If not, then I will seek my own way out there." She gestured wildly. "But I will accept nothing more without earning it." And then her tongue really tripped her up. "I am, after all, stuck here."  
  
Jareth was like a hunting dog scenting the prey. His ears pricked, his eyes hardened. "What do you mean stuck?"  
  
Jeannie thought for a second about lying, but the warning in his eyes changed her mind. So she fell back on an old trick. Her head sunk, her body seemed to wilt, the fight appeared to go out of her. She stared at the ground, eyes misty, sank her teeth into her bottom lip for a moment. Then, raising her head, she speared him with the helplessness and despair in those green eyes. "Sarah said she won't come for me." Her voice was tiny, the words wrenched from her. As she said the words, she felt them becoming a reality that they hadn't been before she'd confessed this.  
  
Jareth fought against the devastation he saw in her eyes, fought against the rage and disappointment growing in his breast. "Why?" he asked flatly, not even sure he cared what reasons Sarah might try to hide behind.  
  
Jeannie shook her head. "She said she can't."  
  
"Bitsy!" Jareth roared. The lady's maid entered nervously, having heard all of this confusing and distressing conversation. "Take Jeannie to her room and give her something to help her sleep. I will be gone for the night."  
  
If either had wanted to reply, he gave them no choice. He was gone in a flicker of the firelight, leaving the two women staring at each other. Bitsy patted the girl's ice-cold hand. "It'll be alright, dear. You'll see." But beneath her comforting words, Bitsy felt very afraid.  
  
***  
  
Sarah sensed him, even before the knock on her front door awoke her from a sound sleep. She glanced at the clock and groaned. 12:30 am. Perfect. She drew her robe tight about her, as if it was some kind of protective armour as she padded down the stairs. He continued to knock, deep, thundering peals that shook her self-confidence. He was mad.  
  
When she opened the door, facing a rain-drenched King of the Underground. She mentally corrected herself, he wasn't mad. He was furious. "Jareth?" she queried, hoping her voice sounded thick with sleep, so that he would feel embarrassed and say he would come back later.  
  
It didn't work. "May I come in?"  
  
Sarah, stunned that he was actually asking permission, stepped back. He gave her a slight bow, then entered. She noted that the dampness didn't enter with him. He seemed to become perfectly dry the second he left the rain. Except for his hair. "What are you doing here?"  
  
He turned towards her, then gestured at the couch. She sighed. So much for a quick visit, she groaned mentally. "I have come to talk."  
  
She stared up at him mutely, noting the iciness of his words, the coldness of his eyes, the rigid way he was sitting. "Jareth, it's after midnight, I was sleeping."  
  
"You've ruined my night, why should I respect yours?" he challenged. Gesturing in his trademark vaudevillian way, he caused two mugs of steaming liquid to appear. She picked one up and sniffed it gingerly. Coffee? She eyed him speculatively. "Oh don't be childish, Sarah. It's prefectly safe. If you can call that dreadful sludge safe."  
  
As he drank out of his own mug, Sarah shrugged and sipped her own. She found it was just the way she liked it, milk and sugar and just a hint of mint. "If you think it so awful, why are you drinking it?"  
  
"I'm not. I'm drinking hot chocolate." She raised an eyebrow at that, but decided to withhold any further comments. Jareth seemed inclined to get to the chase, because his next words nearly caused her to drop the mug. "Why are you abandoning Jeannie?"  
  
Sarah choked and quickly set the mug down, folding her shaking hands in her lap. "What?"  
  
"You heard me, Sarah."  
  
"I . . . I am not abandoning her. I just . . ."  
  
"I find it very hard to believe that you would be afraid to return, Sarah. I would have thought you would think beating me again to be a piece of cake."  
  
"It's just that . . ."  
  
"And since you consider me such a monster, I would think you would want to get your friend back as soon as possible. You wanted her back that night, quite badly if I recall, if all the things you called me were correct. What has changed?"  
  
Sarah gulped. "She's not healed yet, is she, Jareth?"  
  
"I can't do any more for her. And she can not stay where she is. She is in danger there, Sarah!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I gave you the answers to why, Sarah! Everything you ever needed to know was in my gift to you, but you never looked properly. Humans don't fit in well Underground. My subjects would not take well to a loose Human adult. That she's female is her only saving grace. But for her, there are only two positions open to her. One I would not care to offer, the other she would not care to accept."  
  
"Tell me the truth, Jareth. What future has she in the Underground?"  
  
Jareth looked at his reflection in the window, distorted by rain. He looked very little like a King, he thought. He looked far too Human for his tastes. "She could be my mistress, my Queen or buried on the hill you tumbled down."  
  
Sarah started. "Buried?"  
  
"A Human adult? Alive in the Underground and not property of the King? What chances would she have? If I turned her loose to wander the Labyrinth, she'd be dead in a week. If I put her in the villages beyond, Human-fearing citizens would find one brutal way or another to rid the Underground of her. And even if she could manage to survive them, even win them over, only my protection could shield her from the magic that would attempt to infuse her."  
  
"How is she protected then as your mistress or Queen?"  
  
"Sarah, I am the King. The magic obeys me. It can not harm what is a part of me."  
  
Behind the couch, a figure sneered. Kiori was enjoying this surprise visit very much. Jareth was such a fool. Not only did he still not suspect there was any rhyme or reason to the Labyrinth's recent behaviour, but he was here, doing her job for her. No longer would she need to plot out exactly how to make the bitter and suspicious Sarah feel guilty about abandoning her friend. Jareth was doing a much better and much more efficient job. Her mistress would be pleased for sure, she thought happily.  
  
Sarah frowned. "How do you know all this? I mean, are you certain?"  
  
Jareth's eyes grew distant. "Unfortunately, I am."  
  
"Explain."  
  
"I fell for a young woman a few hundred years ago. I courted her in her dreams, made her wish herself to me. I'd done that numerous times over the years, you understand. But, in the past, the women were content to stay within the castle, even after I had tired of them." Sarah snorted in irritation, but he ignored it. What was he supposed to have done? Waited for someone, her perhaps, for over a thousand years? "But she was different. She wanted marriage. I, of course, did not. She refused to become my mistress and insisted to be returned. That I could not do. So I released her to live in a forest, where she would be away from the dangers of the villagers. I sent one of my former mistresses with her to keep her company and I visited often. At first, there seemed to be no complications." He paused for a long moment, caught up in the pain-filled memories. When he spoke again, he pinned Sarah with his eyes, forcing her to look at him. "She suffered, Sarah. She suffered horribly. There was nothing I could do as the magic tore through her, changed her and ultimately killed her."  
  
Sarah swallowed hard, stunned by the horror of what he was telling her, both with his words and with the pain in his eyes. "My God." she whispered.  
  
"I swore that I would never let that happen again. That no woman would again enter my world without knowing what was expected of her. But there was no other choice with Jeannie. I couldn't watch her die, not when she called on me to help her. Not when she was wished away properly and there was someone above ground to fight for her."  
  
He rose, crossing over to Sarah and kneeling before her, still holding her eyes captive. "I know you hate me, Sarah, and I suppose I deserve some of that. But do you hate her? Can you condemn her? Because this time, her death will not only be on my hands. How can you turn your back on her?"  
  
Sarah fought against his guilt trip. "You must care for her a great deal." she managed to force out.  
  
His gloved hand came up to touch her cheek, but she jerked away and he let it fall back, defeated. "It is you I love, Sarah. Don't be foolish and be jealous of Jeannie. Yes, I care for her. She is different from all the other girls I have met. She seems to genuinely care about everyone around her. She's learning the names of the goblins! She's told me a little of what she's been through. I want to protect her, to give her the good things in life she deserves."  
  
Sarah forced out a bitter laugh. "The only person you love, Jareth, is yourself. You expect me to believe you care about anyone but you? That you actually want to give Jeannie a better life?"  
  
Jareth's temper battled against the choke-hold he restrained it in. "That is what I do, Sarah. I take the unwanted, the abused, the neglected and I give them something their Human families could not."  
  
"How can I believe that?"  
  
Jareth knew it was time to leave, before he did something stupid again. "Read the book, Sarah. Read the damn book." He rose, his arrogant pose a far cry from the tender way he had knelt before her. He gave her one last look before he strode to the door. "If nothing else, Sarah, at least have the guts to tell Jeannie why you are damning her."  
  
And then he was gone, the door shut firmly behind him, only one mug remaining on the coffee table. Sarah sat, stunned for a moment, trying to process everything. The next moment, she was a blur racing up the stairs, stumbling into the attic, blindly reaching for the book. 


	14. Chapter Thirteen Unlucky Dreamer

[pic]King of Dreams, Owner of None  
  
by Bunniko  
  
AN: Yipes! I've had this sitting on disk, but forgot all about it! Again, my beta reader is MIA, so if someone is interested in filling in, feel free to beta Ch's 12 and 13 for me. Please, please review, so I know someone is reading this still. Reviews do help encourage me to keep writing this. *hopeful grin* Another chapter with oblique references to me and my friends. So yet again, there's some stuff I own. I own: Trixie/Jeannie, Melinda, Deborah, Rikki, Solei, Kiori and other things as they appear. I do not own: Texas (bummer), England (yay!), the Labyrinth (sniffle), Jareth, Sarah, etc. To my real life friends: See if you can find yourself. Did I write you in? lol  
  
AN: Keiko-sama's back! This is the beta-ed version! YAY!!! On to Chapter 14 for me!! (thanks for all the reviews, I LOVE THEM!!!!)  
  
Please Note: The story is set 5 years after the movie.  
  
Chapter Thirteen - Unlucky Dreamer  
  
Kiori's hurried consultation with the Will following Jareth's sudden departure left her with a cat-like smile stretching her features. When Kiori smiled, even in such a predatory way, her whole face changed. The sullen look dropped away and her unusual beauty would take the breath away of even the most jaded man. But Kiori was uninterested in any man but her King and she cared nothing for her appearance, with the single exception of her wings. Which at the moment were expanded behind her in a decidedly vulture-like pose. She waited now for Sarah to return from upstairs.  
  
Footsteps echoed clearly throughout the old house and through them Kiori tracked Sarah's progress. The girl had thundered up the stairs as if chased by the hounds of hell. But upon reaching the attic, her footsteps had slowed to almost a reverent, hesitant walk. She was walking toward the vanity as if she were approaching a powerful ruler. Kiori knew the moment Sarah touched the book. It was as if the entire Labyrinth released a breath it had been holding for years. A sense of eager welcoming that reached out hungrily for its rightful Queen. She resisted the pull to show herself and reveal to Sarah the truth, but barely. The sounds of Sarah's slow return to the living room, footsteps of a dreamy girl murmuring forgotten lines, set Kiori's pulse racing with excitement.  
  
Kiori had been waiting for this moment for almost five years. Having defected from Jareth's camp shortly after being sent to this dismal Earth, she had been eagerly awaiting the rebellion promised her. But the Will had been cautious, slowly expanding its sphere of influence subtly, so as not to disturb the petulant, pouting King in his white castle. Kiori knew this was wise, but still she had chafed at the delay.  
  
But now, she was free to act. She could drop her guise as Jareth's loyal servant and rebel in full glory. How she hungered for the battles that would come, the violence, the treachery, the ultimate defeat of her once- proud lover. And as for Sarah? Simple, bitter Sarah had been given five years to discover what she should have known the second she had defeated the foolish King. She had turned her back on her responsibilities and now, without her consent, she would return. She would overthrow the has-been King and establish a new leadership. The Labyrinth would be ruled by one of its own! Her kitty grin became a smirk as her mind's eye conjured up an image of Jareth, staring in horror at his beloved as she rose up in rebellion against him, with the entire Labyrinth behind her.  
  
As Kiori daydreamed of the rebellion's glorious uprising, she completely missed Sarah's entrance. Only the sound of Sarah locking the door Jareth had dramatically exited brought the fairy around. Still ensconced in her hiding place between couch and wall, she glanced sharply at the girl.  
  
Sarah was standing still in front of the door, her thoughts on Jareth and his words. "Read the damn book!" he'd said. She glanced down at the worn red book in her hands. But she had read the book. Read it so many times it should be tattered. She frowned as she studied it. The book should be tattered, her mind screamed. But it clearly wasn't. The binding was un- cracked, the pages a pristine white. Another memory rolled back over her. Jeannie had told her that the book had changed. She hadn't told Sarah how. She frowned further. She'd known Jareth had really given the books to them. That made them magic, then. A dim light bulb seemed to flash in her mind. The book was a link to Jareth!  
  
She turned to sit down, a voice in her head insisting she throw the book in the fireplace and be done with. She didn't realize she spoke out loud. "I played your game and I won. Why can't you leave me alone? I did what I was supposed to!"  
  
She didn't expect an answer. "No, Sarah, you left much undone." Sarah whirled as Kiori detached herself from the shadows of the couch and raised something above her head. Sarah stared in shock at the savage-looking creature that stepped into the light. She opened her mouth to scream as it threw something at her. A dense purple smoke burst about her, stopping the scream as the gas eagerly curled about her.  
  
Instinctively, she turned as if to run, fear clutching at her throat as she noted the rapid way the earth had begun to spin. The noxious vapors curled higher about her, threatening to steal away her consciousness. Unsteadily, she staggered backwards, her hands reaching out futilely for something to catch a hold of, the book falling to the floor. And then the malicious gases made good on their threat and she slipped to the floor herself, unconscious before she hit the ground.  
  
Kiori stood triumphantly over the body of the spoiled, childish Sarah Williams. Her lip curled derisively, mocking her defeated victim. She had savored every moment. The look of shock and fear on Sarah's face after she had spoken. The way she had tried to run, but the noxious fumes had circled her hungrily, searching for her vulnerable mouth and nose. The concoction had been effective, quick and ruthless. Sarah could put up no resistance now to the Will's plans, nor would she even be aware of its intentions until she was beyond help. With a wickedly impish smirk, Kiori summoned her mistress.  
  
A flash of white-purple light flared out of the living room windows of her isolated house as Sarah's body was unconsentingly, yet unresistingly pulled out of her comfortable Human world to the land of magic. Kiori went as well, still in her official position to keep watch over Sarah.  
  
Five pairs of eyes watched, one pair expectantly, four pairs in horror and defeat, as Sarah's body appeared on the floor. Kiori turned Sarah's body over, arms and legs flung wide. The Will hovered over her, a vague spirit. Ludo howled, Sir Didymus shook his chains and protested mightily, Ambrosius cowered and Hoggle cursed. But nothing, not even the ominous rumble of the rocks overhead, deterred the Will. It seemed to form a funnel cloud and lowered itself towards Sarah's head. As easy as you please, the funnel was inhaled by Sarah's breath.  
  
The five spectators were silent. All eyes were riveted to the form of the young woman spread-eagled on the floor. Her face grew pale as snow; her hair seemed hinted with purple highlights. Her body was rigid, still as death. Then she arched, eyes flying open, one purple, one brown. Hoggle looked directly into that eye as it slowly changed to purple. He was certain that he had seen Sarah herself within its depths, reaching for him before her form was swallowed up by the purple. Her body relaxed slowly, her heartbeat calming, her lungs beginning to work properly again.  
  
Hoggle, brave soul, fainted dead away in his chains. A tear slid from Ludo's eye. "Sarah?" he whimpered. Still cowering, Ambrosius added his whimpers to the sad monster's.  
  
Didymus was undaunted. He shook his tiny fist, his chains rattling imperiously. "How dare thee, thou vile creature! Release the Lady Sarah at once!" He proceeded to further challenge the "villainous coward" until a wave of Sarah's right hand silenced him most effectively. His mouth disappeared. Kiori giggled in delight.  
  
Sarah now sat on the dirt floor. Her eyes were distant, making sure her distraction was still at work. Kiori waited as patiently as she could. Slowly, those startling eyes refocused and the being that had once been Sarah rose with surprising grace.  
  
"Mistress, are you pleased?" Kiori questioned eagerly.  
  
She smiled eerily. "Well pleased, my loyal servant." A yawn caught the powerful creature by surprise. "Take me somewhere I can rest." she instructed firmly. "And get some rest yourself, Kiori. Tomorrow, the Revolution faces the King to inform him his pathetic rule is over. Queen Sarah is here to take her rightful place." She smiled wickedly, "With a few improvements, of course."  
  
Kiori led her mistress off to bedchamber, and then found her own bed, with dreams of Jareth's reactions to keep her company.  
  
***  
  
Jareth was nerve-racked. His castle was in an uproar. The screams wouldn't stop! He was pulling his hair out in frustration. How could such a small being issue such heart-breaking, ear-piercing sounds? And why wouldn't they stop?  
  
The screams had started only moments after his return. His patience was shot after that discussion with Sarah, and this was only shattering his nerves further. He hadn't slept well since the girl had called him and he knew he would have little peace this night, either. The most horrible part of this was that he was helpless. He couldn't shake sense into Sarah, he couldn't save Jeannie, and he couldn't even stop the screams.  
  
Jeannie was in hell. The toddy had quickly put her to sleep and Bitsy had slipped from the room, relieved that her charge was safe and resting. But then the nightmares had started. They'd been bad at first, during the time Jareth was away, but after his return, they had escalated in anguishing torment. The pain of the dreams grew steadily, as she relived the worst moments of her life and then as the key players in those moments stepped out of those memories and proceeded to vilify, hurt and insult her anew. She felt their hate, anger and cruelty lash at her. Her body bled as words took shape and sliced into her tender skin. Her skin burned as hate became an inferno she couldn't escape. Every unkind word or action was transformed into a physical wound, a very painful blow. She fought desperately to awaken, but could not, the well-meant toddy keeping her asleep. She could only scream incoherently and endure their taunts and lemon-juice laughter. She wanted to die, to stop, to escape this horror, but there wasn't even that mercy to be found.  
  
An hour had passed. Jareth was fully focused on his young charge, all thoughts of everything, even his beloved, willful Sarah, were pushed aside. If only he could understand . . . he leaned closer, hoping for a clue. A faint warning bell rang within him. Time and space seemed wrong. His attention to Jeannie began to waver, when an understandable word was finally allowed to cross Jeannie's dry, cracked lips. The plaintive words re-captured his attention until the strange feeling passed.  
  
"Daddy," she whimpered, her voice a child's version, "why?" As if those words were somehow a key, the screaming and thrashing stopped, a trickle of tears escaping her eyes. Bitsy came forward to press a cool cloth to Jeannie's forehead, her own eyes red-rimmed by fretful tears. Now, tears of relief stood in her eyes. Jareth, however, was not relieved. He glanced at Bitsy, a silent command to watch over her, to alert him to any changes. At her nod, he rose and stalked from the room.  
  
The girl was too much of a problem, he harangued himself. First her injuries, then her accident in the Labyrinth, and now these nightmares. Not to mention her issues, her pride and her stories of a threat to his power. She distracted him too much. Another part of his mind questioned that. Distracts you from what? Moping over Sarah? He slumped into his chair and stared at all the books he had pulled from their shelves for Jeannie's sake. Yes, he sighed, she distracted him from his moping. She listened to him talk and she filled the long silences of his days with laughter and chatter. Hell, she forced him to live! He hadn't had time to be morbidly depressed in weeks!  
  
And yet, what was he to do with her? He truly enjoyed talking to her, sharing his days in discussions of the history of his world. She was unafraid of his creatures, not disgusted by his goblins or repelled by their antics. He knew she adored children and was interested in seeing the lands that lay beyond the Labyrinth. If she weren't a dratted Human, she would make for a very fine friend. She was sympathetic and concerned and damn it all, she cared about everyone she met! She was too good to be true, his cynical nature mocked.  
  
But his mind was not about to be shut out. She may be sympathetic and sweet and all the rest, but locked in her soul was a darkness he was very familiar with. Most of the Humans wished to him and many of the Humans that wished them away had these dark spots on their souls. In the children, some had been so tainted by that darkness, he'd had to alter their minds. But that always rendered them into goblins. He couldn't do that to Jeannie, see her lose her loving, sweet nature just to be rid of the shadows on her inner light. It was that pain, that unacknowledged anger that made her real. It gave him something in common with her.  
  
He rested his head on the back of his chair. There was a deep darkness on his soul, too. He too had parental issues. He could be cruel when he chose. Could Jeannie? He wondered. Sarah's cruelty matched his. She was his soul mate. He could feel it. Could it be that they were both drawn to the same person, a woman-child who would love them both dearly and supportively? Could Jeannie be the same defensive, loyal friend to him that she was to Sarah? Would the Underground accept her? But the Labyrinth had sensed her as an intruder, had attacked her. The Labyrinth defended him. Was it warning him that the girl must go? Was she a danger to him? An obstacle between him and his destiny?  
  
He rubbed his aching head. Jeannie was important to him. She had been since she was 10 years old. Those stunning green eyes that told you everything she was thinking, that precocious mouth that was rarely silent, even the unruliness of her hair was kept stored in his mind. An image that always popped up when he thought of her. There were times he stared at her and tried to find that girl. He knew that when she was younger, the nightmare hadn't yet scarred her. Back then, secure and happy with her Honey, she'd been confident and carefree. And he wanted her to be innocent Trixie again, bounding over green hills with that overgrown pup of Sarah's, giggling over some silly movie with Sarah or chattering on and on about how cool she thought some silly hobbit was.  
  
His thoughts turned to his Sarah. When he thought of her, he remembered the ballroom. He thought of how happy he'd been, dancing with her, forgetting all about her quest or her defiance. He saw her in her white gown, her upswept black hair tumbling down so sweetly. Her innocent eyes. Or of her in his Labyrinth, the defiant air she held tightly about her, her simple outfit that fit her so well. How she'd befriended his own people! He respected her. His chest tightened when he thought of their final encounter of that adventure. He'd given her so much and then, knowing she'd reject him, he still couldn't resist a final plea for her to see how he felt about her. He'd known she had to rescue Toby, but he needed to know if she could make the noble choice, and choose her brother, her half- brother, over love. She had, breaking his heart and earning his respect.  
  
But instead of showing her that, he lamented again, he lost his temper and lost her. Her scathing insults were hardly painful, but the look in her eyes . . . ah, that was like a sword to the heart, every time. He'd thought that she would be grateful to him for saving Jeannie's life, once she got over the initial anger of him re-entering her life. He'd never expected her to abandon her friend. Apparently he had miscalculated the damage he had done to her.  
  
Jareth's self-loathing rose a notch. He would tell Jeannie of his latest encounter with Sarah in the morning. She would no doubt blame him as well. Sarah was abandoning her because of him. And surely, Jeannie would see it the same way. He would tell her the truth about her situation her, make it clear to her that, despite her pride, she didn't have to option of refusing his hospitality. Doubtless, she would grow to hate him as well. He was beginning to believe it was what he deserved.  
  
He rose from his chair and gazed out the window at his Labyrinth. He was so used to wallowing in self-pity that he often ended up in this depressive funk without even trying. He gazed up, seeking out the stars. "I ask for so little." he practically whined. "Just my soul mate's love and a loyal friend." The stars above continued casting their weak light down upon him. He'd been down for so long, he couldn't find up anymore. He appreciated none of what he had, so desperately did he long for what he thought he was being denied.  
  
Eventually, his thoughts brought him back to the girl. That she'd been clearly victimized in the past was blatantly obvious. But, as he had learned with Kiori, he was not the man to help. She needed a counselor, someone who could show her how to heal. Hell, they both did. He dwelt on Kiori for a moment, and then naturally proceeded to contemplate his Sarah. The ache for her was so strong, a crystal materialized in his hand without even thinking about it. He lifted it up, watching it shimmer in a promising manner. He warred within himself, then dropped it, letting it shatter. He was sick, so sick of watching and waiting. He didn't want to spy on her. He wanted her to summon him. He left his study, seeking out his bed. Dreams of Sarah summoning him, of Sarah missing him softened his slumber. But come the morn, he would wonder what would have happened if his conscience had given in and he'd spied upon her while the bond between Sarah and the Will was new and vulnerable. 


End file.
